


Cold Nights In The Abyss

by GoldenPaws



Series: The Chains That Bind Us [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, At least he tries, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Depression, F/M, He Tries too, I'm sorry just a fair warning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lack of Communication, Nightmares, Sad, Sad Ending, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is a mess, What else is new, but they mostly fail tbh, its Tony Stark so yeah, they all try I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23926513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenPaws/pseuds/GoldenPaws
Summary: Because that kid... He doesn’t know him. He has no clue about who he is, or what he is, even, because he was too busy getting to know a wolf that is now gone, and even though he knows rationally that Sato is still the same, is still there, just in another form, without any fur and with two legs instead of four, it doesn’t change anything. That kid is someone he doesn’t know, and yet he agreed to let the boy stay here and even promised to take care of him, because of fucking course he did.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Tony Stark & Fenrir
Series: The Chains That Bind Us [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477469
Comments: 28
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took me a little longer to post, I had no inspiration left :/ next chapter should be up in a few days, though I'm not making any promises! But I'm confident I'll get this one finished in 2-3 weeks. Should be about 4-6 chapters long.  
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

It’s four am in the morning, and the workshop is quiet. Dark and quiet. There’s no light on, because Tony’s got a massive headache, and his eyes have been burning for approximately five days now. Better keep everything nice and quiet. Letting out a long sigh, he reaches for the bottle of Scotch and takes another sip. Almost half of it is gone by now, and he’s pretty sure he only cracked it a few hours ago... But who cares, anyway? After the last few days he’s had, he has more than earned as much alcohol as he can stomach. And stomach alcohol has never been a problem before, so he’s confident he’ll manage to finish the entire bottle before he passes out. It’s always good to have goals to work towards, after all.

Sighing again, he leans back in his chair and curses the twinge he feels in his back. Of course, on any other night, he would’ve left the lab at some point and stretched out on the sofas in his living room area, emptying the bottle while watching some TV, or listening to music. Or maybe, if things were still- Good, maybe Pepper would have joined him, and they would’ve enjoyed a delicious dinner and then snuggled up on the sofa together. But no- No, everything’s not good, everything’s gone to shit, and Tony has to hide down here, in his very own Tower, because for some fucking reason he invited those weirdos to stay, because- Yeah, why? Because he wasn’t in the mood to just kick them out, especially when both Rogers and Bruce looked pretty lost and unsure of where to go. Neither of them was all that keen to get interrogated by SHIELD, and they’d been so nice and actually kept their promise, and yeah, maybe Tony was feeling a little more emotional than usual, and so he didn’t hesitate for much linger than a second before gesturing for them to follow him, back to the Tower. Somehow, that had translated into them staying here, the whole merry bad of misfits. And so, they’re still here to this day. And Tony is hiding down in his lab, because he’s not in the mood to deal with any other human beings, no way in hell! So he’s here. Getting drunk by himself, and it makes him feel almost nostalgic in a way. Back to basics, it seems, back to his roots.

“Update, J.”

_Certainly, sir. Doctor Banner is currently asleep in his room. Captain Rogers has just finished his workout routine and is now heading for the showers. Agents Barton and Romanov are both awake and residing in the living room area, watching a movie._

Great, just fucking great... Tony is anything but socially awkward or a recluse, but there’s a limit with how much social interaction he can deal with on a regular basis, especially when he doesn’t get any breaks in between. Add to that the fact that he’s stretched thin as it is, anyway, and it’s easy to understand why he’ll most likely spend the rest of the night down here as well. Breakfast, too, since Rogers gets up ridiculously early every. Single. Day, and Tony doesn’t really care for eating that early in the day, anyway, so it probably doesn’t matter as much.

“What about the kid?”, he asks before he talk himself out of it, cringing before JARVIS even starts talking again.

_Sato is currently sleeping in his room, though he has been waking up in intervals of thirty to fifty minutes ever since he fell asleep. Would you like me to--_

“No, no, let him sleep. Kid definitely needs it”, Tony mutters as he grips the bottle a little tighter and takes another sip.

The Scotch burns down his throat and settles heavily in his stomach, because of course he hasn’t eaten in a while, and he can tell he’ll be hungover in just a few hours, but who the hell cares, anyway? Once the nausea gets too bad, he sets the bottle back down and turns to look towards a certain corner of the spacious lab. The blankets are still there, because Tony hasn’t gotten around to throwing them out just yet. He’ll have to get that done soon, though, because why the hell would he keep them? There’s no use for them anymore, and he knows that, of course he does. Yet they’re still lying there as if nothing has changed, and for some reason Tony already knows that they’ll stay there for some time to come. Just like the marble floor up in the living room. He hasn’t gotten around to call someone to fix that, either. Which probably says a lot about his current (or general) state of mind, but he’s too tired to think about it, and he doesn’t care, anyway. Tony doesn’t care about much these days. And yet, he can’t suppress that deep, cold ache that echoes through his body whenever he lifts his head and realizes that the entire lab seems way too empty. The wolf is gone. And there’s a kid, but- It’s a lot more complicated than Tony thought it would be. There had been a feeling, a notion back when Sa- _Fenrir_ had first turned into his human form, but Tony had been hoping that he’d end up being wrong. He wasn’t, which didn’t happen all that often, and Tony- Tony can’t help but wonder what that means, and how he’s supposed to deal with that fact.

Because that kid... He doesn’t know him. He has no clue about who he is, or _what_ he is, even, because he was too busy getting to know a wolf that is now gone, and even though he knows rationally that Sato is still the same, is still _there_ , just in another form, without any fur and with two legs instead of four, it doesn’t change anything. That kid is someone he doesn’t know, and yet he agreed to let the boy stay here and even promised to take care of him, because of fucking course he did! Not like he’s the least qualified person to take care of a child!

Also, he’s still staring at the pile of blankets in the other corner of the lab, so he shakes his head and turns back towards one of the many screens. Grabbing the bottle once again, he leans back in his chair and breathes deeply.

“Show me again, J.”

_Of course, sir._

By now, the AI doesn’t even need him to specify what he wants to see. After almost a week of the same pattern, JARVIS knows. And so, the same footage starts playing once again. Tony watches himself landing on the landing strip, and then the conversation between himself and Loki, up until the moment when he got thrown out of the window. The footage isn’t all that, just a few minutes, but Tony makes up for that with pausing the footage, zooming in and out, replaying even the smallest sequences in slow motion, over and over and over again, until the run time is stretched to almost two hours. And like every single time before this one, he isn’t entirely sure what he’s even doing. Tony knows he’s looking for something, _anything_ , really, that could give him some proof - Of what, he isn’t sure, either. But he keeps on looking, because there’s nothing else to do, and he’s got some time to kill, anyway. So he keeps on watching until his eyes are burning even worse than they were before, and his fingers are starting to cramp.

“Alright, guess this is it for tonight”, Tony mutters as he stretches, setting down the almost empty bottle of Scotch.

He _is_ tired, but since JARVIS hasn’t told him that the air is clear so far, he sees no reason to get up and make his way back towards his bed. No, he’ll stay here, just like he has for the last few nights as well, and it’ll be alright. There’s nowhere else he needs to be, anyway. Rubbing his burning eyes, he nods towards one of the screens and yawns. Then, he tries his best to get comfortable and relax before starting his nightly ritual, which he does his best not to think about for longer than one second at a time, because even he has to admit that it’s getting creepier with very single night.

“Okay, I’m ready. Hit me, J.”

The AI doesn’t question him, which is good, because Tony is in no condition to answer even to his AI, so he’s glad when all he has to do is lean back and watch the footage that’s now being played in front of him - The footage of their conversation, from the moment they sat down on the sofas to the point where they waled out of the room, all three of them. He’s lost count of how many hours he has spent watching the same interactions again and again and again, and how often he has resisted the urge to listen to what Loki told Fenrir when he left the room. No, Tony has never listened to that part of the footage, because it feels- Wrong. There’s just something too private and personal for him to stick his nose into things that are really none of his business. He watches, though, every other moment he can allow himself to watch, and he doesn’t know why, but he’s not strong enough to just stop and close his eyes and go to sleep. So, he stares and stares and stares, and he wonders what’s wrong with him, but he also doesn’t stop, and spends the next few hours silently listening to a conversation he can recite word for word by now.

Yeah, it’s creepy. And yet, it’s the only thing that keeps other- Things at bay, things that keep him wide awake, things that make his hands shake, things... Things that he doesn’t want to think about. And so, Tony keeps on watching, because there’s nothing else to do. Nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I'm back. Really sorry it's taking so long for me to update, I've been suffering from writer's block for the last week :/ I'll keep posting, though, and once this part is done, I've got the next installment ready! So yeah, thanks for sticking around, and sorry for the angst... As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

Pepper was there, when they got back to the Tower. Of course she was. But Tony had forgotten her, for just a few hours, and he only remembered her when he dazedly walked back into the Tower’s entrance hall, and she came running towards him. Her eyes were red, hair a mess, clothes dusty and her entire frame shaking. Tony’s pretty sure she would’ve jumped him right then and there, wrapped him up in her arms and kissed him- But she didn’t. Because Tony came back carrying an unconscious child in his arms, and that... Yeah, that kinda made things a little awkward. So, she came to a halt right in front of him, and just- Stared, and the fact that Pepper was actually speechless for even a single second was almost enough to drag Tony from the daze he’d found himself in ever since those weird space vikings had left his city, and him with a fucking _kid_.

_Good morning, sir. There is currently no one residing in the kitchen area, so it would be the perfect time for a late breakfast._

“Awesome”, Tony mutters as he straightens and cringes at the stiffness in his neck and shoulders, “gimme a second, once I remember how to move my legs I’ll get going.”

He feels... Yeah, he feels fucking old. Like he lost a couple of decades in the span of just a few days. Of course, he got himself checked (if only because Bruce offered and there was just no fucking way he’d pass up the opportunity to get examined by _The Fucking Hulk_ ), but according to the good doctor he’s... Fine. A little banged up, a couple of bruises, a slight sleep deprivation, but nothing a good night’s sleep and a warm meal wouldn’t be able to fix. And Tony smiled and laughed and cracked a few jokes, all the while thinking that he’s not _fucking fine_. He really isn’t. He’s shaking and trembling, drifting through the days, and then jolting back to reality whenever his brain comes back online. JARVIS has already voiced his concerns, but Tony has only waved him off, because what the fuck is he supposed to do about this? It feels a lot like coming back home after- After. Back then, everything and everyone had been moving around him as well, while Tony couldn’t shake the feeling of being stuck, of not being entirely there, and helplessly watching as everyone who hadn’t gone through that particular hell was able to continue with their lives, and he... He was numb and cold, and then he’d feel like his skin was on fire he was about ready to explode and take everyone in a fifty feet radius down with him. There are still some days when he wishes it had happened like that. But it didn’t, and here he is now, groaning as he pads through the lab, rubbing his tired, burning eyes.

“Update, J”, he murmurs as he steps into the elevator and the doors slide shut.

He made sure to get the elevator replaced in less than two days. Took a lot of money (and even more shouting at incompetent people through the phone, because who the fuck dared to deny Tony Fucking Stark a working elevator), but he couldn’t get it done soon enough. He needed to get down to his lab, after all. That was it, of course, that was the only reason. Not that he felt nauseous whenever he looked at the gaping hole in the hallway wall where the doors used to be, or that pulling, twisting, biting _something_ in his gut whenever he stared down into the empty shaft for the very first time. Nope, that certainly didn’t fuel him to pick up the phone with trembling hands and call the very first construction company JARVIS found.

_Captain Rogers--_

“Nope. Wolfie-update, my dear. Make it quick.”

_Certainly, sir. Fenrir has woken up a few minutes ago, though he has opted to stay in bed, as he appears to still be rather exhausted._

“He say anything?”

_Not yet, sir. I asked about his preferences for breakfast, but he refused, as well as my offer to contact you. It appears he is still in shock after everything that has happened._

“Fuck. It’s almost been a week”, Tony mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “did he say anything else? Asked for anything? Anyone?”

_Fenrir has not asked for anyone ever since he first--_

“Yeah, yeah, okay, don’t need any reminder of that.”

Because it wasn’t pretty. Not. At. All.

Tony was there, of course, actually ran through the hallways when JARVIS alerted him to the kid’s elevated heart rate and breathing, all indications that he’d wake up soon enough. Tony was scared, scared out of his mind, but he’d also known that he simply had to be there, him and no one else (even though it kinda sucked to send Bruce away. The guy looked pretty eager to help, but Tony wasn’t sure if the boy would appreciate an audience). So, he’d entered the room and taken a seat right beside the kid, and done his best to ignore his own shaking hands as he reached out to touch the boy’s shoulder. The reaction was- _Intense_. Instead of slowly waking up, Fenrir jumped upright, scrambling backwards as he stared at Tony with wide eyes, breathing heavily. For a few seconds, they’d both remained silent, and then... Well, let’s just say that Tony could see the moment everything came back to the kid, because that’s when he let out a sound, a sound the man had never heard before. It sounded like a mixture between a sob, a whimper, and a small whine, and started shaking the way he had done before, back when him and Loki--

_Would you like to visit--_

“No, not really. Don’t think that’s such a good idea. Let’s, uh, let’s just give the kid some space. ‘M sure he needs it. We’ll... Do that. Later, though. I think.”

He can tell that JARVIS doesn’t agree, even though the AI doesn’t tell him outright. Still, he already knows that he won’t change his mind, because it’s better this way. The kid needs to rest, and Tony- Tony is not exactly the right person to- Him and _rest_ and _relaxation_ just don’t go well together. So, he’ll just leave the alone for now, and if the kid wants some company, he’ll just- Let him know. He told JARVIS to introduce himself formally, after all, so that should work out.

When the elevator reaches the right floor, Tony shakes off these thoughts and squares his shoulders, because everything’s fine for now. He’ll just get some breakfast, then he’ll probably go to sleep, because he’s actually really fucking tired, and he doubts anything useful will come from staying up any longer than he already has. Rubbing his burning eyes once again, he pads through the hallway and makes his way towards the kitchen, breathing a sigh of relief when there’s no one there. Because yes, Tony is a social creature, but not- Not like this. There’s just something about other people moving through a building that he once thought of as _his home_ , something that makes it hard to breathe, and completely impossible to ever relax completely. By now, the Tower no longer feels like _his home_ , but rather a building he’s currently stuck in, along with a couple of other inmates. He’s a social creature, but this- This isn’t working for him. Still, even he’s not enough of an asshole to kick the others out, and so he’s resorted to spending most of his time down in the lab, only resurfacing whenever the rest of the team is gone. Might look like he’s hiding, but he’s not. He’s just... Keeping his distance, because he’s not interested in _talking_ , or whatever else those guys want from him. He’s busy with- Other stuff.

“Anything else happening I should know about?”, he mutters as he opens the fridge and peers inside with a frown.

There’s some leftover pizza which he decides to claim, because why the fuck not? Grabbing a can of coke as well, he pushes the door shut again and trudges back into the hallway, towards his room. And it’s nothing more than _his_ room anymore, now, which... Hurts. It really, _really_ hurts, makes him clench his jaws when his heart starts to ache, because he can’t deal with that, not right now. Just like he can’t look at the one door he passes on his way, stubbornly averting his gaze as he quickens his pace and hurries forward. He’s ashamed to admit that he actually breathes a sigh of relief once he’s safe inside of his own room/ apartment with the door firmly shut, keeping everything and everyone else out. Yeah, he knows it should be different, but he can’t- It’s just _not_. It is the way it is, and it sucks the way it is, but Tony doesn’t know what to fucking _do_ , and so he only shakes his head and trudges towards his bed. JARVIS is nice enough to turn on the lights and keep them dimmed, because Tony’s head is still pounding.

He spends about fifteen minutes munching on the cold pizza he doesn’t really taste, then empties the can of coke, before stripping off his sweaty clothes and falling back into the bed with a heavy sigh. JARVIS has already turned off the lights, but Tony isn’t quite ready to call it a day. He’s- Tired. But he’s also exhausted, and yet his body doesn’t seem to get the message and is still thrumming with nervous energy. Not good. Sighing yet again, Tony rolls onto his side and buries himself under the covers.

“No disturbances, J, none at all. I’m not here, unless Cthulu decides to rise again. Then, and _only then_ you are allowed to wake me up. Understood?”

_Yes, sir. I assume you meant to exclude any drastic changes in Fenrir’s condition?_

“... Yeah, sure, why the fuck not. You let me know if the kid starts- I dunno. If he starts doing whatever magical teenage-wolf-aliens do.”

_Would you also like for me to--_

“Nothing else, dear. Daddy’s kinda tired, he needs his sleep. I’m sure you can handle anything that’ll come up. Now, be a darling and leave me alone.”

JARVIS stays quiet, and Tony takes a few deep breaths and tries to will himself to sleep. He _is_ tired, he _is_ exhausted, he _has_ been awake for almost two days now... And there’s nothing else he has to do, nothing else he wants to be doing, anyway, so why the fuck is he still awake? Letting out a small groan, he rolls onto his other side, and once again realizes that he’s got the whole damn bed to himself once again. Strange how little time it took for him to get used to... Something else. Another warm body right by his side, ready to curl up against him and mumble against his skin. Tony has never relied on shit like that, but here he is, and he’s missing the warmth, the closeness and the quiet reassurance of _you are not alone, I’m right here with you_. Yeah, he misses her, a lot more than he’s usually willing to admit. And it hurts.

Pepper wanted answers. Of course she did, because after defeating an alien army trying to destroy New York City, Tony not only came back with a couple of bruises, but also with a young child cradled in his arms. So yeah, she wanted some answers, but Tony was in no shape to provide those. Somehow, the others got a clue and left them alone, and just a few minutes later they were sitting on the sofas in the entrance hall. Tony had refused to let go of the boy in his arms, and of course Pepper had noticed, and she’d asked who the kid was, and Tony- Tony didn’t even know where to begin. How would he even start to explain what all of this meant, when he himself was still trying to process it all? In the end, he told JARVIS to do it, because he’s a coward, a real fucking coward, and he’s not strong and brave enough to actually open his stupid big mouth and confess. Instead, he leaned back and watched Pepper, who was staring at one of the flat screens, where JARVIS was playing clips of security footage, showing how Fenrir appeared in the lab, back in Malibu, and Pepper asked what that had to do with any of this, but Tony simply shook his head and then--

Well, in the end it took JARVIS about forty minutes to tell the whole story, leaving out a few choice details, of course, which Tony was thankful for. And Pepper was speechless once again. She kept staring at the screen, then her gaze drifted towards the unconscious kid in Tony’s lap, as if she was desperately trying to somehow connect that kid and the wolf it had all started with. Understandable, because Tony was trying to do pretty much the same, and was still mostly unsuccessful. A few minutes went by, and then she’d shaken her head in disbelief and told him she would leave, because this was too much. She’d call, in a few days, and then they’d talk. And that was the end of it. She’d left just a few moments later, and that was the last he’d seen of her. He knows she’s not... _Gone_. She’s still managing things for the company, still making sure that he doesn’t just fuck up everything they’ve built more or less together, still working behind the scenes, but that’s- That’s all. Tony hasn’t seen her ever since she left that day, hasn’t heard from her, and he doubts he will in the near future. No, Pepper is gone, and she might just stay gone forever. Wouldn’t be surprising. After all, he really outdid himself this time around.

He has a nightmare, that night. It’s a new one- No more blood and sand and heat, but... Nothing. Just- Nothing, nothing but a kind of cold that’s seeping into his bones, and a silence that presses against his ears and into his brain, along with that fucking _darkness_ that claws at his mind and makes him want to scream - Not that anyone will hear, because he is alone, all alone, floating in this endlessness, this vast _nothing_ , without time or space or light, and he wants to scream, scream, scream, scream scream scream scream--

That’s what he does, in the end, he screams and gasps as he struggles upright, drenched in sweat, with a rapidly beating heart. JARVIS is talking, bit Tony can’t listen, can’t understand a single word that’s being said, because all he can see is darkness darkness darkness darkness darkness--

“Lights!”, he finally hisses, dragging a hand through his sweaty hair, “lights, turn on the fucking lights, J!”

A moment later the lights turn on, and he sees what the already knew- He’s in his room, in the Tower, and he’s no longer falling through time and space. He _knows_ that, and yet he’s gasping, his chest is aching and he feels dizzy and lost and so fucking _alone_ \--

_Sir, you are hyperventilating and showing signs of a panic attack. Would you like me--_

“No! No, for fuck’s sake, just- Just shut up! I don’t, I don’t fucking need anything!”, Tony growls, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair and _pulls_ , pulls until the pain brings him back to the present.

JARVIS keeps quiet after that, and Tony can focus on his breathing, on his racing heart and the fact that he’s _fine_ , just fucking _fine_! Because there’s no reason to be scared, because he’s back, because nothing bad actually happened to him, and why the fuck is he still gasping for every single breath? Shivering, he pulls his knees up to his chest and hugs them close, curling himself into as small of a ball as he can manage. There’s sweat covering his entire body, and he feels chilled to the bones, but there’s nothing he can do about that now. All he can do is to just stay still and hope he doesn’t fall apart in the next few minutes.

_Sir. Fenrir has woken up as well by now and it seems he is requesting your presence._

“Now? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”, Tony hisses, but doesn’t move to uncurl himself just yet.

This... Has happened before. Even though he isn’t sure how JARVIS would even know that the kid is asking for him (since he still hasn’t said a single word), the AI has told him as much a few times before. And each time, Tony- Tony went. The first time. The second time. And by the third time his presence was needed, he told JARVIS to sort it out himself.

_I do believe the situation truly--_

“Kind of a bad moment, dear”, Tony mutters, closing his eyes as he takes a few slow, deep breaths.

JARVIS doesn’t insist, and so he tries to calm his breathing, because he doesn’t really feel like passing out here and now. Sadly, the guilt that’s now being added to his troubles isn’t making it any easier, and it makes him feel even shittier. Yeah, he knows that he’s supposed to get up and make his way to the kid, and sort out whatever problems the boy’s having. But he just- Can’t. Not like this, anyway. Kid’s seen more than enough shit over the last few days (centuries, actually, but that’s a bit too much to think about right now). There’s no need to add witnessing Tony’s own breakdowns to the mess. Tony might not know all that much about children, but he has a feeling that whoever’s in charge of their wellbeing (and that’s him, holy fucking shit, that’s _him_ in this case!) isn’t supposed to be a complete wreck themselves.

_Sir, even if you are currently not in the best condition, I truly believe it would be best if you went--_

“Jesus, I FUCKING _CAN’T_ RIGHT NOW!”, Tony yells, throwing his head back and glaring at the ceiling, “I can’t even move my fucking legs right now, you hear me? So how the fuck am I supposed to motherfucking help that kid, huh? How am I supposed to--”

He breaks off, shaking his head as he rests his forehead on his knees once again. There’s not much else to say, anyway. It’s not like JARVIS doesn’t know he’s a mess, has been a mess for a couple of years now, maybe even longer. And that’s okay, in a way. He’s gotten used to it, one way or another, at least he can deal with it. But there’s no way in hell that he’ll unload all of this on a _kid_ \-- Well, not anymore. Shuddering at that thought, he tries to curl even tighter into himself, digging his nails into his skin, because it’s getting a little much again, and he’s at his limit as it is.

“I fucking told him about Afghanistan”, he whispers, biting his lip until it bleeds, “I told him about being tortured, about my nightmares, I told a fucking kid that I was thinking about _killing myself_! You really think there’s any way I can _help him_ right now? Fuck, I’ve got a feeling that kid’s already seen more than enough of my trauma as it is!”

Because he can’t quite forget about that. About all the things he told that boy, all the shit he unloaded on a small kid, just because he thought it was a giant wolf who didn’t understand a word he was uttering- Yeah, that wasn’t true at all. Sat- Fenrir understood every single word, and he listened, because he didn’t have a choice, and Tony... Tony was just too happy to tell someone, wasn’t he? Because Rhodey wasn’t there, and Pepper wasn’t there, and it’s just the same right now--

_Sir, your breathing is speeding up again. If you are unable to calm yourself, would you agree to contact Doctor--_

“No! For fuck’s sake, are you insane?”, he hisses, lifting his head to glare at the ceiling (and sometimes it really sucks that JARVIS no longer has a face he can glare at with all he’s got), “don’t you dare to tell Bruce about any of this, you hear me? Really don’t need any more witnesses, thank you very fucking much!”

No, he really can’t deal with anyone else seeing him like this. Some nights it’s more than enough that JARVIS sees him fall apart. But adding Bruce to the mix- No, he’d rather die than call out for the good doctor. Shuddering again, he lets his head fall forward and takes a few slow, deep breaths. Slowly, ever so slowly his heart stops pounding quite so painfully against his ribs, and he no longer feels like passing out. His hands are still shaking, but he already knows that’ll stop eventually, too. He’ll be okay- In a while.

“How’s the kid?”, he mumbles after a few seconds of silence, because fuck--

He needs to know. Even if he won’t get up and go to the kid’s room, he at least has to know that Sato- _Fenrir_ will be okay. JARVIS hesitates for a few seconds, and that’s never a good sign, but in the end he answers.

_Fenrir has laid back down and is apparently trying to fall back asleep. He is currently crying, but he has stopped asking for your presence._

Tony’s heart clenches at that, and that hurts, too. A lot. And he’s ashamed to say that he feels relieved, because even though the kid’s crying, he’s- No one’s asking for him anymore. And that’s a relief, a fucking big relief, so big that he can feel his shoulders sag and some of the tension seep out of his body. Cursing under his breath, he finally manages to uncurl himself and fall back onto the mattress, breathing deeply. He knows it’s wrong. He knows it’d be his job to get up, right the fuck now, and go to the kid’s room and make sure the boy’s as okay as he can be, given the circumstances, but he just- He _can’t_ , as pathetic as it sounds, even in his own head. It’s as if he’s nailed to his bed, heavy and unable to move, and he’s still so fucking _tired_ , and he just--

But no, he won’t, he _can’t_ \-- Letting out a deep breath, he brushes a hand through his sweaty hair, cringing at the feeling, and forces himself to close his eyes again. The lights are still on, and he won’t allow them to be turned off, no matter what that says about him. If things were a little less... _Complicated_ , he’d call Rhodey, and actually ask him to come by and fucking lie down with him. Like he did back when Tony came back the first time, shaken and broken and terrified of every little shadow. But if Rhodey was here, he’d ask a lot of questions, and Tony simply isn’t ready to answer them. So far, his best friend only knows about the battle, about the Avengers, but he hasn’t come by, because Tony has told him he’s got a lot of shit to figure out, and he’ll let him know once things have calmed down again. And so, he’s on his own.

_Fenrir has fallen asleep again, sir._

“Good. That’s- That’s good”, Tony murmurs as he crawls back under the covers, because he’s still so fucking cold, and he feels like shit, and he just, “lemme know if he has another nightmare.”

Neither of them mentions that there’s no guarantee that Tony will be able to actually get up and do something about that, should it come to that, but he’s trying. That’s all there’s left to do, at least for now. Breathing another sigh, Tony rolls onto one side and curls into himself. All he can do now is hope that the rest of the day/ night/ whatever will pass quietly, because he needs some rest, and he needs it right fucking now. And then- Maybe then he’ll finally be able to help that kid he promised to protect for the rest of his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, I'm not dead. Sorry for the long wait, I'm kinda stuck right now:/ BUT I definitely won't abandon this series, it'll just take me a little longer to update. But the updates will definitely come :)  
> So, new chapter. I might go back and edit a bit (this is the very first draft, because I just needed to get this done), but overall I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. I really hope you enjoy, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

He wakes up sometime later feeling pretty shitty. Blinking his eyes open, he ignores JARVIS’s voice and only groans at the sunlight filtering through the windows, making it impossible to ignore that the day has begun. Cursing under his breath, throws back the covers and stretches, before swinging his legs out of bed and getting up. Padding through the room, he drags a hand through his messy hair and tries to wake up some more. Doesn’t work, mostly because he hasn’t slept much more than three hours in three days, but he knows there’s no use in trying to get back to sleep. Instead, he’ll focus on waking up some more. Shower should help with that, at least.

Yawning, he steps into the bathroom, where the shower is already running, and starts stripping. For a short moment, he thinks about asking for another update, because for some reason he’s pretty sure JARVIS left out a couple of details in his usually rather thorough morning report. A moment later he’s already dismissed the thought, because no, just- Just no! Not before he’s had a couple of minutes to wake up and come back to reality on his own. Tony lets out a sigh as the hot water hits his back, closing his eyes and rotating his head until his neck cracks. In no time at all, the shower is filled with steam, and Tony leans against the tiled wall, resting his forehead on his forearms. Yeah, he needed this. Even though the night is over and the darkness is gone, the aftershocks are still coursing through his body, leaving him weak and trembling. And he knows that feeling, he knows it all too well. Tony isn’t stupid enough to not have researched his... Condition. No, he didn’t seek professional help (because it’s kinda hard trusting strangers these days), but he’s got JARVIS, and he’s got google, and in the end it was frighteningly easy to figure it all out. PTSD, apparently. _Not_ _good_. But it fits, it fits so fucking well, and even though it hurts to admit, Tony knows that if he ever went to a therapist, that’d be the official diagnosis. And he’s well aware of the fact that the life he’s leading isn’t exactly what anyone would recommend for someone with said diagnosis, pretty much the complete opposite. So far, he was always able to brush off those concerns - Rhodey’s, Peppers, hell even _Happy’s_ , and his own as well - but ever since he fell from the sky, he can’t help but wonder if he’s making the right decisions here. Because he can feel it, all the stress and fear and tension, can feel it chip away at his armor, both literally and figuratively. It’s not a good feeling, and he’s scared what will happen once he’s reached that point.

“Wolfie-update, JARVIS”, he mutters, blinking his eyes open and watching the water run down the drain between his feet.

_Fenrir is still in his room. He has woken up about an hour ago, but has yet to leave the bed. It seems he is lost in thought for now._

“Did he cry?”

_Several times throughout the night._

“Did he ask for me again?”

_Yes, sir. I promised to relay the message once you woke up._

He lied to the kid, then. For some reason, Tony doesn’t like it. Then again, he knows it’s his fault, and he’s the one to blame. If he had his shit together, they wouldn’t be in this situation. And sure, there are things he’d like to happen instead. Things he isn’t yet sure he’s even ready to feel and think, because it’s a _kid_ , and he’s- Well, _himself_ , and it’s just weird and scary and something entirely new. Probably doesn’t matter, because the way things are right now, there’s no way they’ll get anywhere even close to what he’s got in mind. But as things are now, there’s nothing to do but try and sort his own shit out, before he even thinks about encountering the boy face to face. Tony prides himself with being an excellent liar (even though there are certain people who can see straight through his bullshit), but considering what Loki told him that won’t work on the kid. Even if he’s no longer... A wolf. That’s not something he’d ever want to risk. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever made it out.

If he actually escaped from that fucking cave, and somehow made his way back to civilization. Doesn’t feel like it, sometimes. His life tends to get pretty intense, weird and downright _bizarre_ , and there are days when he wonders... If it’s even real. Or if he’s still down there, simply passed out from the last round of interrogation and torture, and this is a fever dream his brain has conjured up to keep him from going completely insane. If he’ll wake up any moment now, and be back down there, and nothing has changed. Actually sounds more plausible than everything that has happened ever since he got back, right? Considering the whole superhero business, and space aliens, and him being entrusted an actual _child_ \--

Sounds like bullshit to him. Especially that last part, because come on- Who’d ever be dumb enough to ask him to care for a child? Him, Tony Fucking Stark, train wreck on two legs, unable to keep even himself alive! And he’s supposed to care for a kid? Yeah, that’ll surely go swimmingly! And he’d laugh about it, if it wasn’t so sad, and if he wasn’t still operating on the assumption that this is actually his reality. Letting out a sigh, he leans against the elevator and tries to just- Whatever. Something, something that’ll be better than the shit show that’s going on right fucking now. Forgetting doesn’t work, at least not while staying sober, and there’s no one to talk to, either, because... Well. Let’s just say things are the tiniest bit complicated right now. So, he’s on his own. Again- That’s been the status quo for as long as he can remember, and it’s never been a problem before. Tony was always fine getting shit done by himself. He even managed to “tame”-- And okay, that thought doesn’t really help right now, because now he knows that there was a kid hiding in that wolf the entire time, and every single joke he ever made about being a wolf whisperer tastes stale by now. Yeah, it was a child all along, which means he talked to a child, which means he told a child--

“Music, J”, he mutters the moment the elevator reaches the lab, and the AI complies.

By the time he steps into his workshop, he is greeted by Metallica, it calms his frayed nerves. Yeah, that’s better. Better than the silence, better than the voices of his teammates, better than his own thoughts which keep him up at night. Music’s always better.

He gets to work, and it... Well, it’s kinda good. At least better than not working, although that’s not saying much, and it keeps his hands busy and his mind not as frantic. Better, if only just slightly. But still as far away from good as he’s ever been. Tony is not a man to give up easily (never, but that’s a bit much for today), so he simply huffs a breath and forces himself to keep going. And once he’s elbow deep in his slightly damaged suit, he can breathe just a little easier. He even starts humming along with a couple of songs, and doesn’t feel the need to ask JARVIS for any updates, and since the AI doesn’t tell him about any new developments, he guesses that things are alright for now. So, he wipes his sweaty brow and leans forward again, grumbling at YOU and DUM-E when they keep whirling around him and knock over some of his _very expensive tools_ , and then frowns when he sees that the cold actually managed to damage some of the--

_Sir, there is--_

“Not now, JARVIS”, he grumbles as he picks at a few wires that have been _fucking frozen_ , “daddy’s busy, so unless there’s not a fucking--”

_Your presence is requested._

“... By who?”

The AI actually hesitates, which is never a good sign. Tony stops digging through the suit for just a few seconds, clenching his jaws since he already has an idea about what’s going to come. Yeah, there’s really not much that’d justify an interruption right about now--

_Miss Potts is currently residing in the lobby and asking if you’d be available for a couple of minutes._

Okay. That was definitely not what Tony was expecting. It actually takes him a few seconds to process that, and by then he’s already scrambling out of the suit, which results in the bots whirring and beeping and generally panicking.

“The fuck? She’s _here_? Why didn’t you tell sooner?”, he hisses as he reaches for a rag and hurriedly cleans off his oily hands.

_Miss Potts did not tell me about her visit beforehand, and so I only learned about it the moment she set foot into the Tower._

JARVIS actually sounds a little bit miffed, and Tony is just about to tell him to get his fucking act together when he remembers that _Pepper is here and wants to talk to him_. For just a moment, he is tempted to just- Not do it. To pretend he is busy, or not here, or whatever excuse will get him out of this. Because he’s tired, and he feels about one hundred years old, and his hands are shaking just slightly, and it’s just not the right condition to be in when talking--

“Yeah, okay. Uh, send her down,will you?”

_Certainly, sir._

He can’t. And he knows it, too. Tony is a coward, and he’s an asshole, and sure, if it was anyone else he’d probably hide away in his workshop for the rest of his life, because the outside world is a really shitty place to be in, and he’s got anything he needs right fucking here, so why would he ever leave? But it’s not anyone else. It’s _Pepper_ , and she’s here to talk to him, and he owes her at least that. Even if he’s scared out of his mind.

He spends the few moments he’s got left cleaning his hands as much as he’s able to, then grabbing a bottle of water and drinking half of it, and then wondering if he’s too old to try and hide in one of his suits. There’s a chance Pepper wouldn’t find him right away, and if she starts searching, he’d be able to fly-- And then it’s too late, and the elevator doors open, revealing Pepper in all her glory. To Tony’s dismay, she looks absolutely gorgeous, as usual. He’s still awed by her effortless beauty (because even though Pepper always makes sure to look stunning, she somehow makes it seem like it’s the easiest thing in the entire world), no matter how often he sees her enter a room. Today, it hits him like a kick to the gut, and it’s no surprise, either. She’s wearing a light grey pencil skirt, a tight fitting white blouse, her red hair tied up in a simple ponytail. Her high heels click on the marble floor as she walks into the workshop, and Tony feels the air getting stuck in his airways. Yeah, it’s still the same. Weirdly enough, it has only gotten worse ever since they got together. Of course, she was always stunning, and he always noticed, but once he understood that there was just so much more to her...

“Tony.”

“Hm, oh- Hi. You look... Good.”

“Thanks”, she replies with a tight smile, “you look exhausted.”

“Ah, that’s just standard at this point”, he waves off as he starts walking towards his new futon, “you, uh, wanna sit down? Or won’t this take long enough?”

“No, let’s sit down. I’m not here because of something related to SI, so it- Might take a while.”

Tony doesn’t flinch at that, even though it’s a close thing. But he was always great at acting like nothing ever bothers him, and so he simply smiles brightly at her and takes a seat on the futon, turning to face Pepper once she’s sat down as well. He can tell she’s nervous, too, which is just great, and is just about to ask her if they won’t just forego the negotiations and she’ll simply kill him right now when she starts talking.

“So... How are things? With- With Fenrir?”

The name still sounds wrong, but the one he picked doesn’t sound much better. And anyway, how would Pepper know? Not like she was here for everything--

“Oh, uh... Still a little... _Weird_ , I guess. Kid’s still pretty exhausted from the whole ordeal, so he’s been resting most of the time. Got a feeling it’ll take a while for him to settle in.”

Considering the fact that the boy also has to get used to an entire new world and the fact that his father is gone for good, it might take him fucking _years_ to get settled in. Not that Tony has been thinking about shit like that, not at all. Stuff like that only makes him want to bash his head against the nearest wall.

“JARVIS said that he has been through a lot.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“Have you thought about hiring a therapist for him? Fenrir might need to talk to someone--”

“Yeah, I’ve got a feeling that’s off the table right now. Kid’s not all that trusting when it comes to strangers”, Tony mutters, taking anther sip of water for lack of anything better to do.

“He’ll need to talk someone sooner or--”

“Yeah, guess you’re right. But that kid has spent a big part of his in imprisonment, and then almost died when he came here. Lost his father, mother is gone, too, and now he’s stuck here, with us. So, I think it’d be a good idea to give him some fucking space right about now. He can talk to some shrink later on, too.”

He can tell that Pepper doesn’t agree, but he won’t budge on this. Considering how scared the boy looked whenever anyone but Tony approached him (and even Tony himself at certain points), he won’t even think about forcing another stranger on him. No, that shit can wait, until the kid’s at least able to fucking _talk_.”

“He isn’t talking?”

“Nope. Hasn’t said a single word ever since I brought him back. Might be the trauma, might be something else. Decided to leave it be for now.”

“Do you really think that’s the best--”

“Jesus, I don’t know!”, Tony growls, setting down the almost empty water bottle with a lot more force than necessary, “I don’t know _shit_ , Pepper, okay? ‘S not like I’ve ever had a kid to take care before, let alone a kid... Like that one. So, I’ve got no clue. But I won’t force him to talk to some weird--”

“Are you sure we are still talking about Fenrir, Tony?”

And that- That hurts a lot more than it should. He can feel it worm it’s way under his skin and pierce straight through his heart, feels his hands start to shake and his vision grow red. It makes him angry, no scratch that, it makes him _fucking furious_ \--

“Yeah. Yeah we are”, he replies lowly, baring his teeth as he fights for control, because he can’t start to scream right now, he really can’t, “because even though I suck at _all of this_ , which I’m well of, thank you very much, I’m not enough of a shit head to actually project all of my mess onto an innocent child that’s unlucky enough to be stuck in my care. So no, I’m not talking about myself, and trust me, I’ve been thinking about nothing else for the past week, and this has not been a decision I made in a matter of a few minutes, alright? He’s here, he’s exhausted, and I’ll give him as much time as he needs. Because that’s what you need when you’ve come home from an absolute nightmare, okay, you need fucking _time and space_.”

He feels awful as he says it, because he knows all too well that it’s not entirely true, no matter how much he wants it to be. He wants to know what needs to be done now, he wants to be able to give the kid exactly what he needs, but he- It’s simply not the case. Because sure, he decided to give Fenrir some time and space, but that’s not just because of his own experiences, but also due to the fact that he’s fucking _terrified_ of even facing the boy. Yeah, he’s a coward, and Fenrir is the one suffering for it right now. But there’s no way he can tell Pepper. Or anyone for that matter.

Pepper looks like she doesn’t really buy any of this, but is well aware that arguing won’t do them any good. Instead, she lets out one of those awful, disappointed sighs and nods, and Tony hates her just a little bit- This. _All of this_.

“Okay. If you think that’s the best--”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

“Alright.”

They lapse into a painfully awkward silence, and Tony regrets inviting her downstairs. Maybe hiding away would’ve been better after all, because this doesn’t feel like this is going anywhere. Maybe it’s for the better, maybe not. He isn’t sure anymore.

“Do you understand why I left?”

“Would be kinda hard not to.”

“Do you really, though?”, Pepper asks with an exasperated sigh, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, “because I get the feeling that you... Don’t.”

“I do, though.”

“Yeah? Then why did I--”

“For fuck’s sake, is this an interrogation?”

“I simply want to know if you understand, Tony. It’s important for me, okay? It _matters_.”

He wants to act like an asshole, or even more like one than he already does. He wants to pout and yell and rage, he wants to be even more difficult and anger and disappoint her, because he’s already gone so far, why not go even further? Why not completely any chance of reconciliation while he’s at it? That’s more his style than compromising, anyway.

“Well, I lied to you.”

“And that’s all?”, she asks, and her voice is all sad and fragile, and fuck if Tony doesn’t feel like th worst person on the entire planet right about now.

“For months. I lied to you for months. I hid a giant wolf in my workshop back in Malibu, and I never told you, even when you were staying over, and I had to sneak downstairs to feed him in the middle of the night. And Rhodey met him, but I never bothered to introduce you to him, even though I’d long since decided to keep him for good, or as long as I’d be able to. Even moved him to New York, and hid him there as well. Which was pretty easy, since I was the one designing the workshop, and you never asked about those plans, because you trusted me - And probably didn’t expect something like _him_ , anyway. Who would, by the way?”

Tony can see Pepper’s face grow tighter and sadder with each word he says, and he’d stop talking, if only he could. But he keeps on talking, keeps hurting her with every single sentence, and even though he feels bad about it, there’s also some sort of twisted... Relief. And so, he doesn’t stop.

“And to be honest, I wouldn’t have told you. Not even after the invasion, if he’d stayed the same. If he had stayed a wolf, and if Loki hadn’t ben his fucking _dad_ of all things, I probably would’ve kept him a secret for the rest of my life. Though I can’t tell you why, because- I don’t know. But this is not something I ever would’ve shared with you. But you were already there when we got back, so I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Would you have hidden a child from me, then? A child you promised to take care of for the foreseeable future?”

“I don’t know”, he shrugs, brushing a hand through his messy hair, “I don’t know, Pepper. If he’d stayed a wolf, I would’ve kept him a secret. As it is... I would’ve told you at some point. It just happened sooner than I’d hoped.”

“And you can see how I have a problem with that?”

“Of course.”

“When we talked about it- About us. Back in Malibu. He was- He was already there, right?”

“Yeah. And I’d already decided to keep him, more or less.”

“We talked about being honest with each other. And you promised me to try.”

“I did. But I never planned on telling you about him. About the wolf, I mean.”

He knows that hurts, but there’s no point in lying anymore. There’s this ugly premonition that there’s nothing salvageable left between them, and so Tony decides to go straight for the kill. Yeah, he’s an asshole, and he’s an absolutely awful human being, but he still doesn’t want to lie. Not about this. Not anymore.

Pepper lets out another sigh and nods slowly, shoulders tensing as she looks down into her lap. Her eyes drift through the room, and settle on the blankets in one corner, furrowing her brow.

“That’s where he slept?”

“Yeah. He was always close to me, ever since he crashed into my lab back in Malibu. He liked to watch me work, and I liked to keep an eye on him. Also, the entire workshop is designed to keep him hidden, which made things a lot easier.”

“And now?”

“Now he’s got his own apartment, up on the main floor. Can’t really let a kid sleep on the ground, after all.”

Tony doesn’t think about how hard that decision was, not at all. But it was, because he’d gotten used to a constant presence when he worked, and it’s surprisingly hard to get back to what used to be the status quo for fucking _decades_. But he misses the wolf. He misses not being alone, he misses the breaks he took to cuddle up with the giant animal, he misses the things he’d tell Sato- Not about his trauma, but the stuff he’d tell him about the album they were listening to that day, the food they were eating, the embarrassing stories about his college time, hell he even misses having to defrost those disgusting slabs of meat and feeding the wolf before he clawed his way through the industrial freezer.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Her voice is quiet, but it doesn’t tremble at all. No, she doesn’t doubt her own words, and Tony- Tony didn’t really expect any less. Still, it hurts.

“I always thought- I always thought Iron Man would be what ruined our relationship in the end”, she continues, blinking a few times as she turns back to look at Tony again, “because that- That was _hard_ for me, Tony, that was indescribably _hard_ for me to live with. But I tired. For you. And I thought it would work out in the end, I really did. But this... Tony, I don’t think I can forgive you for this.”

“Because I didn’t tell you about the giant wolf that teleported--”

“Because you lied to me. For _months_. Because you were planning to lie for me for years to come, and for what? For your newest _project_ \--”

“He’s not- He’s not a project, Pepper. And he never was.”

“That’s a lie, and we both know it.”

“It’s not a fucking--”

“It was something new. Something that sparked your interested, something that you could try to figure out. A challenge, a new mystery. Honestly, I don’t doubt that you started to care for him at some point, but it started out as new project. And those have always been able to make you forget about everything else in your life. It’s always been that way, and it won’t ever change. But I can’t compete with that”, she continues with a sad smile, eyes glistening with unshed tears, “I doubt anyone could. It’s who you are, after all. And it’s wonderful to see you work and create and do what you are passionate about, and I’d never want that to change. But it’s- It’s not the kind of relationship I’m ready to enter. I thought I was, but... I think I was wrong.”

There’s nothing he can say to that, because she’s right. She’s completely right about it all, and he’s not dumb enough to tell her otherwise. Pepper was always able to understand him better than he gave her credit for.

“I don’t think it’d be fair on either of us if we continued like this. I think... I think it’s time to stop, before we do even more damage. I still- I want to work with you. I want us to get along, and I don’t want us to lose what we had before this entire mess.”

“Yeah, that- That’d suck.”

She smiles at that, and then she leans closer and presses a kiss to his cheek. Tony shudders and closes his eyes, but resists the urge to cling to her, because that won’t help at all. He knew this would happen, he knew- Somehow, he’s known for a long, long time. But he’s always been great at bullshitting himself, and he wanted to believe it _so much_ , and now... Now, it’s over.

“I still love you, Tony Stark. It’s just... Not enough, in a way.”

“I love you, too”, he whispers, and his voice shakes ever so slightly, “just- Wish it was different. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

“I know, Tony, I know. And I’m sorry, too.”

He wants to tell her she doesn’t have to be, but decides against it. Instead, he soaks in her warmth and inhales her familiar scent, because it’s over now, and it hurts, but he knows there’s no way back. And maybe it’s better this way. At least for her. For him... He’ll have to see about that.

“We’ll stay in contact. About business, of course, and if there’s anything else you need help with- Call me. You know I’ll be there for you, whatever you need. I’m sure you’ll get through this, even if it will take some time.”

“Thanks, Pep. Means a lot.”

It hurts when she pulls away and gets up, brushing a hand over his skirt and brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He doesn’t have the courage to look at her, but he does sigh when she brushes a gentle hand through his hair.

“And no matter what it meant for us... I’m glad you decided to take Fenrir in. The poor kid was lucky he landed in your workshop. There was no better place for him to be at that moment in time. There still isn’t, I’m sure of it.”

With that, she pulls away entirely and starts walking towards the elevator. He watches her go, of course he does, and he feels his heart and throat clench at the familiar sight. Pepper doesn’t turn around again, and he’s glad for that, because he’s got a feeling looking into her warm eyes again would fucking break him at this point, so he simply watches her back and tries not to lose it right then and there.

And just a moment later, she’s gone, and Tony’s alone again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I'm back. Things are only getting worse, so brace yourselves! Thinking about 2-3 more chapters, but I'm not sure yet. Next update could take a while (I'll be moving next week, so I won't have much time), but it will definitely come! For now, I hope you enjoy this one, lemme know what you think. As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

Tony didn’t call anyone to fix the living room floor.

He knows that’s a problem. He knows that it probably says a lot about himself, and how he’s dealing with all of this, and the issues he’s not actively dealing with. Yeah, he knows all of that, but he doesn’t bother thinking about it in depth, mostly because he has a feeling he won’t like whatever he’ll find once he starts soul-searching. No, it’s true what they say: Ignorance is bliss. Expect how it’s not. Not for him, at least. Tony doesn’t really feel all that blissful tonight, as he sits on the living room sofa, staring out of the glass front. That, he got fixed, if only due to the fact that there would’ve been a lot more questions from his newest room mates, and it probably would’ve gotten really fucking cold real fast, so he made sure to fix that pretty early on. The floor, though... That was harder. Easier to fake, telling everyone who asked he couldn’t get a hold of the guy who was originally responsible for it, with the whole invasion destroying big parts of the city, bla bla bla, whatever. No one asked any questions. They were probably all busy with their own shit, anyways, and no one was willing to pay attention to his rambling about marble from Italy, and the cost and the transport--

He scoffs and takes another sip of Scotch. Well on his way to being drunk, and he hasn’t even been here for much longer than two hours! Must be a new, sad record. But while it makes him feel like shit, it doesn’t make him slow down at all. If anything, he drinks just a little faster, while staring at the wholes in his once beautiful marble floor. Pepper picked it out, and Tony went along with it. At that point, he was already over the entire project, busy with whatever else. He can’t remember anymore, because that’s so long ago already. Before- Must’ve been even before Sa- _Fenrir_ showed up in Malibu. So, a really, really long time ago. Which is funny, because it hasn’t been more than about three months since then. Feels like an entirely different life. Or a very, very distant dream. The holes look pretty hideous in the darkness. Though he knows they don’t look that much better in broad daylight, either, and he really should call someone about this. Can’t have those holes in his living room floor forever. No, he needs to get that fixed. And yet he knows that he won’t. He won’t call anyone, and he won’t get his floor fixed, and he’ll sit here again, in just a couple of days, and wonder why he’s still staring at those holes. Yeah, Tony knows himself well enough.

“Any news from Thor?”

His voice sounds like shit. Scratchy and hoarse, like he hasn’t used it in ages. Or like he has been crying. Yeah, he sounds like shit.

_Not so far, sir. Mr. Odinson has not been in contact with any other member of the Avengers, either. Would you like me to search SHIELD’s database--_

“Nah, ‘s fine. Probably busy, ‘s alright. Was jus’... Wondering, I guess.”

He isn’t sure about what, exactly. Taking another sip, he wonders what he even wants to hear about from the blond god. There’s no way to convince himself that he wants to have a long, detailed talk about all the fascinating shit he’s supposed to be interested in. Aliens exist! Just a few months ago, that discovery would’ve sent him into a fit! Now, though... Now, he simply takes another sip of Scotch, and stares at his damaged marble floor. Yeah, aliens exist, and they are- Entirely too close to the human race to just look at them and-- Whatever. He doesn’t want to think about it, not that way. He wants to be fascinated and intrigued, not- Not scared, and sad and depressed. Because that’s how he feels, and he’s well aware of the fact that it has a lot to do with what those aliens brought into his life. He doesn’t want to feel that way. He never asked for this, any of this.

“Getting kinda sick of those grey areas.”

_Pardon me, sir?_

Not like he actually wanted to say that out loud, but here he goes again, it seems.

“Grey ares”, he murmurs after taking another sip, “those suck, don’ they? Life- Life’s jus’ easier without them. Back an’ white, ya know? Easy! ‘S all good, ‘s long as there’s only black an’ white. But- But grey ‘s kinda complicated. Sucks, jus’- Jus’ sucks, because life’s already complicated ‘nough.”

Wow, seems like he’s a lot drunker than he thought he was. Which is just awesome, because being sober sounds like a really bad idea right about now. Frowning, he grips the bottle neck just a little tighter and finally forces his eyes away from his destroyed floor. Lets his head falls back and stares at the ceiling. There, that’s a lot better. The ceiling’s still whole. Just like it’s supposed to be.

“He’s grey.”

_Who are referring to, sir?_

Tony doesn’t say anything, though. He’s too busy staring at the ceiling and wondering why he even fucking cares. Wasn’t like they actually-- Just some guy. Pretty guy, sure, interesting, too. But also a mass murdering maniac. Who wanted to take over the world. Who destroyed big parts of his city. Who murdered Phil. So, why the fuck would he ever care?

“Lost his kid.”

_Are you referring to--_

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Not like it matters, right?”, he murmurs as he closes his eyes, taking a few slow, deep breaths.

But he can’t stop thinking about grey areas. Or rather, this one very specific grey area. Even though he knows it’s pointless, because he only knows what Loki told him, and why the fuck would he believe anything the _God of Lies_ told him? Then again, Thor backed up most of those stories, along with what he saw later, down on the street. Not all that hard to believe all those horrible stories once he came face to face with Odin Assfather.

“‘S just- It sucks. It all sucks so fuckin’ much. An’ I know I shouldn’t care, but I kinda do, somehow. Think he might’ve been an alright guy. If he hadn’t- If he had--”

He breaks off at that, shaking his head. That turns out to be a bad idea, because when he opens his eyes again, he finds himself once again staring at the floor, getting lost in those holes, and wondering what he’s even trying to say. Probably nothing. He’s just drunk off his ass, and not supposed to talk at all. Yet here he is, because he can’t sleep even though he’s tired, and there’s no one else to talk to. Other than JARVIS, of course. JARVIS is always there (because he can’t fucking leave).

“He’s a criminal. He’s killed people. Lots o’ people. He’s a- A bad guy.”

JARVIS doesn’t say anything to that, which is just as well. Not much to say to that, anyway, because those are facts. Loki has done a lot of bad shit, and certainly deserves punishment. That’s the official version, at least. That’s what everyone else knows and believes. Tony, though- Tony’s dealing with his very own version, and he’s beginning to think that that’s a lot more difficult than just calling the guy a villain and being done with it. And thus, he’s back to the grey areas. It used to be a lot easier. The people he had to fight- They deserves what they got. They were greedy, they wanted revenge, whatever. Tony never had a problem kicking their asses. He didn’t with Loki, either. In the beginning. Now, though... Now, everything’s so much more complicated and complex than it ever was supposed to be, and while Loki is gone, Tony’s still here. Still on his own, still drinking those thoughts away, still staring at his ruined floor.

Ignorance is bliss... What a load of bullshit.

He wakes up at some point, blinking sluggishly. The alcohol makes his head swim, and it takes him a few moments to remember where he is. Living room, on the sofa. Bottle of Scotch must’ve slipped from his fingers, because he’s no longer holding it, and the smell is heavy in the air. Makes him cringe as he squeezes his eyes shut and rubs at them, trying to clear his mind again. Fuck, he’s drunk off his ass...

“The fuck is going on...”, he murmurs as he struggles into a slightly more upright position and blinks his eyes open again--

Only to flinch back violently when he comes face to face with- The kid. The fucking kid is here, right here, crouching in front of the sofa. He jumps back just as Tony does, golden eyes wide and shining as he curls into himself... Shaking, he’s shaking again, his entire body’s trembling as he cowers right before Tony, staring at him with fear and uncertainty. Tony’s heart is pounding against his ribs, and he feels- Ugh, he feels like shit! Weak and shaky, and just about ready to throw up, because he drank ay too much Scotch on an almost empty stomach. His head is aching as well, and his eyes are burning because he slept nowhere long enough. And then there’s that kid... The kid who’s still right fucking there, trembling and curling into himself, but still looking at Tony for whatever reason. Fuck-, he’s not sober enough/awake enough/calm enough- _Enough_ to deal with this.

“What the fuck- JARVIS!”, Tony hisses with an angry glare towards the ceiling, even though he’s not entirely sure what he’s looking for.

_It appears that Fenrir was unable to fall asleep, and decided to look for you, sir. He found you approximately one and a half minutes ago._

Which is just fucking great and all, because this is about the last thing Tony needed tonight. But he can’t JARVIS that, since the kid’s right there, and while he’s still not talking, Tony’s pretty sure he can still understand what’s bing said right in front of him. The chew-out will have to wait, then. Forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, Tony swallows against the nausea he feels crawling up his throat, and finally looks back down. The kid’s still there. He’s ashamed to even think he would’ve preferred him to have vanished in the meantime. Yeah, he’s just that much of an asshole.

“Uh, hey, kid. Couldn’t sleep, huh?”

The boy trembles, eyes still wide and shoulders hunched. A couple of seconds pass, then Tony lets out another sigh and drags a hand through his messy hair. Fuck, but he’s so not ready for any of this! Time is still thick and sticks to his thoughts, and thinking is kinda difficult right now...

“Had a nightmare?”, he tries, because that-

That happened before, back when- Back it was still a wolf, and Tony wasn’t so fucking lost and helpless. Fuck it all, but he was better at reading the wolf! But this is a kid, a _human being_ (more or less), and he has no idea what to do! All he can do is sit still and watch the boy stare at him, cringing at the small shivers and shakes move up and down that slim frame. Shit, but the kid isn’t looking too good. Way too thin, judging from the way those clothes are hanging off of him (he makes a mental note to let JARVIS order something a few sizes down, because this just- It just looks kinda wrong), skin pale, with sweat clinging to his forehead, eyes wide and pupils blown. And Tony-Tony doesn’t know what the fuck to do!

“So, you- You’re still not talking, I take it?”

The kid flinches again, blinking a few times as if trying to break Tony back into focus. Not a single word, and Tony knows that so far, the boy is acting like a mute. JARVIS would’ve told him if the kid had uttered a single word, but nothing so far. Which would be fine, if it didn’t make everything that much more complicated. Like right now. Right now, it’d be really fucking convenient if the kid could just tell him what the fuck is going on. Maybe then Tony could try and- _Do something_. Anything at this point, really. But there’s nothing. The kid is looking at him, more or less, but Tony’s not even sure if the boy even sees him. He’s still trembling, still tense as fuck, and still hasn’t said a word.

“That- Kinda makes this entire conversation a little difficult”, Tony murmurs after a few more seconds have passed in silence, “because- I mean, I’ve got no problem with this being a one-man-show, but you- You came here. So, I’m guessing there’s something you wanted? From me?”

He’s hoping for- Something. If not words, then something else. A sign, a clue, anything at this point. And Sa- Fenrir _does_ blink, _does_ look at him, and lets out a small whine, shaking his head as he bites his lip, curling even more into himself. It’s easy to see he’s distressed, scared and probably feels like shit, but it’s still- What’s Tony supposed to do? He simply doesn’t know. He’s stuck, he’s helpless, and that’s a feeling he’s always hated the most. Tony Fucking Stark isn’t helpless. But right now he kinda is. All because there’s a kid cowering right in front of him, asking for everything and nothing at the same time. And he’s got no idea how to deal with that- With that _kid_.

“It’s- It’s okay.”

And that’s a lie, that’s a huge fucking lie right there, and they both know it. Kid lost everything - His father, his home, hie entire realm, and now he’s here. Nothing’s okay, and Tony wants to gag on those words (might be the Scotch, too, but he’s always been a kinda melodramatic drunk).

“It’s alright. You’re- You know you’re safe here, right? No one’s coming for you, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re safe, and there’s no coming to take you away. You remember talking about that with- You remember, right?”

Yeah, the kid remembers, because there are tears in his eyes, and he lets out a small whimper. Great, just fucking great! Tony feels himself panicking at the sight, because he doesn’t- He has no idea about kids! Especially when they’re crying. And Fenrir... Fenrir’s crying right now, even though he tries to wipe away those tears and suppresses any sobs that might force themselves out of his body. No, the boy cries silently as Tony watches with panic filling his chest.

“Hey, hey, you’re--”, but telling the kid he’s okay feels so fucking wrong it burns his tongue, “hey... It’s- I- I’m sorry, okay, do you- Do you want, uh--”

But he has no idea what to offer. Because he doesn’t know what to do, even though it should be _simple._ It’s Sato, after all. In a way. In another way, it’s a child he used to treat like an animal, because he was convinced that’s what he was, anyway. A child he told his darkest secrets, without a clue that he understood every single word, a child who _knows_ that Tony’s fucking broken, and is still stuck in the Tower, because he has literally nowhere else to go. And at the same time, while this tears him apart and makes his lungs grow tight and heavy and his heart pound just that much faster and harder, he also knows that right now, none of that matters. Because there’s a crying child right in front of him, and Tony needs to help that child. He’s the only one to do it, anyway. And he- He promised. He doesn’t want to break that promise just yet.

Suppressing a sigh, Tony takes another deep breath and does what he would’ve done with Sato- He reaches out. Big mistake, apparently. The kid flinches back violently, almost falling onto his back as he lets out distressed cry, wrenching himself away from the mere suggestion of being touched by Tony. Which... Ouch. That- That motherfucking _hurts_ , because Tony knows- He knows Sato. And that kid- That kid has the same eyes, and that- That’s supposed to mean something, right? Sato- Fenrir remembers him, right? Right? He’s not some fucking strangers. That’s part of the reason the kid stayed with him. Because they know each other. They- They trust each other.

... Right?

“Easy”, he hears himself say as he leans forward just a bit--

And the kid whimpers again, fisting both hands in his hair and shying back. But Tony’s an idiot, so he doesn’t back down (even though there’s a voice in the back of his head telling him again and again that this is not how he’s supposed to proceed in a situation like this), and the kid scrambles back with a whine, knocking into the coffee table and crying out in surprise. It kinda breaks Tony’s heart to see the boy flinch away once again, eyes darting through the room as if he’s looking for an enemy, or maybe an escape route, because Tony’s pretty sure the kid wants to leave right fucking now. He recognizes the pattern, after watching himself on security footage, right after a nightmare, or in the middle of a panic attack. It looked bad back then, but it looks so much worse here, because this is a kid, who shouldn’t be this terrified. But he is. Because he’s- He’s--

A few seconds later, those wide, golden-brown eyes find his again, staring up at Tony with nothing but terror and desperation, searching for- An answer. Is that the way he looked at Rhodey whenever the nightmares got too bad? Whenever he felt like he couldn’t fucking breathe? He never asked. Mostly because he was too ashamed.

“It’s okay”, he hears himself murmur again, putting on a false smile he doesn’t feel at all, “nothing to worry about. You’re safe here. ‘S just you and me. And JARVIS, too, but he’s not planning on hurting you, either. Right, buddy?”

_Of course, sir._

“See? So, everything’s alright!”

He can tell it’s the wrong thing to say, because the kid pulls away from him again. Slower, this time, with eyes clearer, and a scowl on his face, but he does pull away, drawing up his shoulders and making himself as small as possible. Must be a reason for that, but Tony can’t for the life of him think of one. What did he say that was so wrong? Or was it something else?

“Hey, what’s- Something wrong? Something you wanna tell me?”

Sato’s still scowling, and he pulls away even further from Tony when he tries to reach out again. The man suppresses yet another sigh and finally lets himself back into the cushions, because he’s getting nowhere this way. Fine, whatever. He’ll have to try something else, then. If only he was sober, or at least slightly less drunk... After a few seconds, the boy stops scowling and his shoulders sag just a little bit. He’s still nowhere near relaxed, but it’s- Better, at least. If only a little bit. Tony knows that he should try- Something. He tries to think back, tries to remember what he’d if this was still his wolfie, but he draws a blank. Sato was easy. Whenever Sato was sad, cuddling usually solved that problem really fucking fast. For both of them, if he’s honest. But Sato- Sato is kinda gone, in some ways, at least, and Tony’s left with a kid who just a had a fucking panic attack before he even got to put a single finger on him. So, touching’s kinda off the table. And he can’t think if anything else. Because things used to be so much fucking easier, and now- Now they’re not. And Tony’s way too drunk for that kind of shit. He’s just- He’s motherfucking _tired_.

“So... What do you want, then? Because I’ve got no fucking idea, to be honest”, he mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to will himself to wake up just a little more, “so, uh, you gotta give me a little more, buddy. ‘Cause I’m fucking lost here.”

It’s the truth, at least, and maybe that’ll get them somewhere. Sato’s still looking at him, but he makes no move to actually open his mouth and tell Tony what the fuck is going on. Not that Tony way actually thinking that’d happen, but it’s still a disappointment, and he’s still not getting anywhere. He’s still stuck, and that fucking sucks. He can’t- He doesn’t know what to fucking _do_. A couple of seconds pass, and the kid’s still looking at him. No longer crying, but even that doesn’t feel like an accomplishment, because he didn’t do anything, and there’s still so much sorrow and sadness and grief in those bright eyes, and Tony feels like throwing up. He doesn’t, of course, because this is not his first time getting way too drunk way too fast, and he’s come a far way since his college days. It’s a close thing, though. And when the boy remains silent for just another minute, he- He gives up. Because he has no idea what to do, and he has a feeling that the kid feels just about the same, and sitting here staring at each other won’t accomplish shit.

“How about you go back to bed, hm? Gotta be pretty tired. ‘S in the middle of the night, after all”, he murmurs, casting a glance towards the glass front to ensure that he hasn’t somehow missed the sunrise.

He hasn’t. It’s still pitch black (as pitch black as it can be in New York City, of course), so maybe he’ll manage to get some sleep as well. Looking back at the kid, Tony finds him still staring at him with wide, confused eyes. Like he doesn’t understand- Anything, and while that might just be the case, Tony has no way to help him right now. He’s drunk, he’s exhausted, and he might just end up puking his guts out, anyway, because his stomach is still rolling, and he doesn’t want that to happen in front of the kid. When nothing happens for a couple of seconds, Tony sighs again and drags a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands.

“Go to your room, Sa- Fenrir”, he finally says, “get some more sleep. Nothing’s going to happen to you tonight. Or ever, for that matter. You’re safe here, so try and go back to sleep.”

Those wide eyes dart towards the hallway, then back to Tony. A shudder runs through the kid’s slender frame, and he lets out another small whine. It’s a pitiful sound, and Tony wants- Well, Tony wants a lot of things. Most of them unachievable at this very moment. For example, he wants to actually hug the damn kid, if only because he doesn’t know what else to do. But he knows it won’t be appreciated, so he doesn’t try. No use in scaring the boy even more than he already has. They can try that again... Sometime. But not tonight. He’s got a feeling they’ve already done way too much as it is. No use in pushing things even further.

“C’mon, off you go! JARVIS can show you the way, and let him know if you need anything. But go back to bed for now. ‘S still way to fucking late”, he mutters as he leans his head back and allows his eyes to fall shut.

It’s quiet for a moment, and for some reason, that gets on his nerves. He can tell the kid’s still watching him, but after a few more seconds, the boy slowly gets up, and then quietly makes his way through the room. He moves almost silently, and Tony has to strain his ears to listen to his slightly stumbling steps, before Fenrir steps into the hallways and there’s nothing to be heard anymore. Tony’s alone again.

_Fenrir is back in his room and has gotten back to bed, sir._

“Good, that’s- That’s good”, Tony sighs as he blinks eyes open again.

It really is good. Kid needs all the sleep he can get. JARVIS told him the boy’s still exhausted, but that’s what Loki told them would happen, so he tries not to worry too much for now. He’d ask Bruce to examine the kid, but he’s got a feeling Fenrir wouldn’t really appreciate that all that much, so he’s a little hesitant. Another thing he’s not all that familiar with- Being hesitant. Tony’s a man of action, and he hardly ever doubts the decisions he makes, no matter how big or small. Doubt is another thing he usually doesn’t bother with. But now- Now it’s all he can think about. His doubts.

Sighing again, he shifts his head. Automatically, his eyes drift back to the holes in the floor, and he stares. Stares and stares and stares, and kinda wishes he hadn’t dropped his Scotch earlier, because even though he feels the nausea rolling in his stomach, he also feels way too sober for now. Good thing the kitchen isn’t too far away. He’ll get up in a minute. Find something else to get lost in, and drink as he watches the sun rise over New York’s skyline. In a minute, though. For now, he stays where he is, sinking deeper and deeper into the sofa, and staring into the holes in the marble. Whatever that says about him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry it's taking me so long to post. Life's just been pretty stressful (turns out moving with two big dogs is kinda exhausting, especially when once of them is recovering from spinal surgery), and writer's block is a bitch. But the good news is that I'm back on track. Only 2-3 chapters left, and then I'll be ready to start posting the longest and already finished installment. Again, very sorry it's been so long, but I hope I'll finish this during the next 2 weeks.
> 
> Hope you still enjoy, and let me know what you think!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

He dreams of the void again. It’s been happening more and more lately, and he’s already so fucking sick of it. Sadly, just because the dream never changes, doesn’t mean the fear and terror ever go away, or even lessen for that matter. No, it’s still as bad as it was in the beginning, even if there’s- Literally nothing. That’s the scariest part, though. The _nothing_. It crawls into his head and extinguishes any thought, any hope he might’ve been able to sustain. It’s wraps around his body and chokes every single breath from his lungs, and the cold seeps into every fiber of his being and turns him into fucking ice. Tony’s a rational man, a man of science and logic, but he’s completely unable to identify that _nothing_ as anything but plain _wrong_ , disturbing and somehow _evil_ , even if he knows it’s objectively not. It’s just that- Nothing. And his nightmares consist of nothing more but himself, frozen in the darkness, the cold, the timeless loneliness, for as long as he stays there. There’s nothing but himself, and the terror he feels, and the chilling realization that no one will be able to reach him, no one will be able to _save him_ , even he himself is completely unable to even lift a single fucking finger to _do something_ , _anything_ to get out of here, and back--

“Tony?”

He startles awake at that, almost clogging whoever he’s right in front of him in the face as he struggles upright. It’s jarring to come back to reality, it always is, because it’s such a contrast- Darkness and cold, now sunshine and someone leaning over him, which- Bad idea. Most people know that, but this person doesn’t, judging by the surprised _oof_ , and someone falling backwards a moment later. Yeah, this is not the best way to start the day. Even though he has admittedly had worse. Blinking rapidly, he finally manages to come back to the present moment - In the Tower, sitting on the sofa, because he fell asleep at some point. There’s an empty bottle Scotch resting against his foot, some of it has spilled onto the carpet, visibly staining it. Good thing the floor is still spectacularly fucked up, so it’s kinda hard to notice at first glance. Oh, and there’s Bruce sitting on the ruined carpet, looking at Tony with wide, concerned eyes. Just- Fucking _great_.

“Uh... Sorry about that”, he finally mutters a few seconds filled with awkward silence, “you okay?”

“Yeah”, Bruce mutters as he slowly sits up again.

Once he’s sure the man really is fine and hasn’t been hit, he turns to look towards the ceiling.

“JARVIS, what time is it?”

_It is currently 7:48 am, sir. You have been asleep for approximately two and a half hours._

Nothing but good news, as usual. Tony spends the next few seconds glaring at the sun burning his eyes, because of fucking course it’s already morning again, and of course JARVIS didn’t wake him in time to sneak back down into the lab without anyone even seeing him. He has a sinking suspicion that the AI had been hoping the good doctor would show up. Oh well. At least it’s Bruce. And not the Capsicle. That would’ve been a hell of a lot worse, that’s for sure!

“What’re you doing here?”, he asks after yet another minute of awkward silence, stretching himself for lack of anything better to do.

His entire back creaks and every single joint seems to start complaining loudly, but he swallows down his discomfort and tries to convince himself that it’s just the night he spent on this ridiculously expensive and arguably stylish, yet horribly uncomfortable sofa. Not his age, or some shit like that. Not at all.

“I was planning on getting myself some breakfast, but then I saw you. And I wanted to check on you, since you seemed... Distressed.”

“Huh. Distressed.”

It’s a nice way of putting it, probably. Tony knows what he looks like when he’s having one of his worse nightmares, and distressed is definitely not the first word that comes to mind. Terrified, hysteric, psychotic, sure, but distressed... Then again, Bruce is a nice guy. No wonder he’d try to be nice about this. He’s not like Rhodey, who’s known him long enough to ever sugar coat his words anymore. Yeah, he knows he looks and sounds like a wreck when he screams himself awake, but that’s not something that needs to be said out loud. It’s too fucking early for that.

“Are you al--”

“Yeah, yeah, never better!”, Tony quickly interrupts as he gets to his feet--

And promptly has to fight a wave of dizziness. Okay, so moving at near light speed probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how he can’t have slept much more then two or three hours (in about as many days), is still pretty drunk, and can’t remember the last time he ate anything. Thankfully, Bruce is there to catch him, and embarrassing as that might be, it sure as hell beats his other option: Face-planting on the floor and break his nose on top of everything else. Yeah, this is definitely better.

“Thanks, buddy. Still kinda tired, I guess”, he mutters as he straightens back up, blinking a few times to clear the dark spots from his vision, and patting Bruce on the back with a slightly shaky hand.

“Tony, I think you should sit back down. You don’t look too good, to be honest.”

“Ouch, Brucie. And here I thought we were bros”, he murmurs as he drags a hand over his still burning eyes, but he does allow the other man to lower him back down.

Mostly because he still feels dizzy as fuck, and he’s still tired, and he might just puke his guts out if he tries to move across the room any time soon. Bruce keeps a hand on his shoulder and sits down right next to him, all the while watching him with barely concealed concern. It’s... Weird, mostly. Tony isn’t used to having company, and he usually doesn’t like being watched when he’s at a low point, which yeah, this is kind of a low point, no doubt about it. But then again- It’s also kinda nice. Not being alone, for once.

“You’re drunk.”

“Very astute observation”, he murmurs, reaching down and picking up the empty bottle, peering inside, “it’s kind of an additional personality trait for me at this point, so it’s no big deal. More the rule than the exception to it, ya know?”

Jeez, he must be drunker than he thought if he’s already spewing shit like this! Shaking his head, he drops the bottle back to the floor and tries to summon some of his usual bravado. But there’s none to be found. Today just... Sucks. Bruce is quiet for a moment, but he doesn’t leave, doesn’t look completely disgusted and/or disappointed, only more concerned with each passing moment.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Uh... Let’s just say it’s been a while.”

“Alright. Then how about I prepare some breakfast for both of us? Should make you feel better in no time.”

“Okay...”, Tony mumbles, but Bruce is already getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

He watches him go, blinking lazily as he tries to summon the energy to get up and fucking _bolt_ , because this feels _weird_. It makes his skin crawl and his lungs tighten, even though he knows that Bruce has nothing but the best intentions. That doesn’t register, though, at least not the way it should. All he knows is that there’s someone else, and he’s too close, and he’s watching as Tony fights to not fall apart. No, he doesn’t like it, but he’s also in no state to just get up and run away. He’d like to do that, but he already knows that he’ll only fall and projectile vomit all over his already ruined living room. And that’s an even worse prospect that staying here and being taken care of by the good doctor.

It’s not even Bruce fault. It really isn’t. Bruce is...A good guy. A great guy, as far as Tony can tell after the few hours they’ve actually spent together. So no, it’s not Bruce who’s the problem. It is - Surprise, surprise - Tony. As usual. Because he can’t deal with having people around, yet he told them to just _fucking move into his Tower_ , and now he’s panicking and failing to function because of that very stupid decision he made when he was in no place to do that _at all_. It’s simply the consequences of his actions, coming back to bite him in the ass. And that would be fine, if it wouldn’t suck so much. Tony’s not as much of a social creature as people would believe. In fact, he’s not all that social to begin with, only rejoicing in the contact and interaction with a) people who know him inside and out and have learned to deal with him over the course of literal _years_ , and b) people who are on a similar level with him, and are able to hold their own in an intellectual conversation. Both types are hard to come by, but that’s never been a problem. Tony’s got Rhodey, and he used to have Pepper, and he likes Happy as well, no matter how grumpy that guy might be. He was never... Well, maybe he was lonely, one way or another. He is now, though, that’s for sure.

“Here. I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

Apparently, he’s been losing some time, because Bruce is already back, handing him a steaming mug and a plate with some plain slices of toast on it, smiling timidly. All Tony can do is blink like an idiot and accept both items as the other man takes a seat next to him on the sofa, and even though his stomach rolls at the mere though of actually eating even a single bite of food, he already knows that he won’t be getting out of this one. So, he lets out a small sigh, and takes the first bite. When it turns out not to be as bad as he feared, he takes another one, and just seconds later, he’s happily munching on his toast. Sadly, he then makes the mistake of grabbing the mug (assuming that it’s some freshly brewed coffee), and taking a generous sip. He ends up gagging and spewing most of what he just took into his mouth onto the coffee table, just about keeping himself from gagging.

“What the actual fuck is that?”, he finally gasps, staring at the cup like it contains the anti-christ, because it sure as hell tastes bad enough.

“It’s a herbal tea. I came across it a couple of years back while traveling through India... I take you don’t like it very much?”, Bruce offers with another small smile as he wipes a few droplets off his cheek (since apparently Tony managed to spit on him as well).

“Well, it’s, uh... Pretty _different_ ”, is what Tony settles on as a reply, carefully setting the mug down and wiping his lips and chin, “definitely woke me up, if nothing else.”

“I thought it might do your stomach some more good than immediately filling it with coffee again.”

“Probably. Than again, my body’s kinda used to getting fucked up on a regular basis. Got a feeling it’s starting to be allergic to healthy stuff, if I’m completely honest.”

Tony can’t even remember the last time he drank tea, or any other hot beverage at that. Sure, some hot chocolate on Christmas Eve last year, but that shit had been spiked as well, to a point where it was more alcohol than anything else. Somehow he’s pretty sure that’s not something Bruce would be happy to hear, so he keeps his mouth shut, and eats another slice of toast. Part of him hopes that if he just sits here and stays quiet, Bruce will eventually get up and leave him alone. Another part of him doesn’t want that to happen quite as much. And yet another part of him is loudly demanding caffeine and then maybe some sleep, in that order.

“Tony, I know it’s not my place to ask, but... Are you alright?”

The question has him hesitating, but only for a split second. Then, he plasters a well-practiced grin on his face and turns to look into Bruce’s concerned eyes.

“Never better! Why’d you ask?”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and he realizes that the moment those words have left his mouth. Damn his exhausted, dehydrated, malnourished brain for malfunctioning right now! Cursing internally, he kinda dares to hope the guy will just drop--

“Well, you’ve been hiding away most of the time ever since the battle. None of us have seen you for more than a few seconds at a time, and I’ve got a feeling that you haven’t been eating or drinking enough. Add to that the fact that you have rather impressive bags under your eyes and the way you almost fainted the moment you tried to get up from the sofa, and I hope you can forgive me for not entirely believing what you’ve just told me.”

Tony can’t help but cringe at that, because yeah, he knows he’s not exactly making a convincing case. Also, Bruce is looking at him with someone who’s seeing straight through his bullshit- Kinda like Rhodey does, most days when Tony tries to tell him whatever will get him out of owning up to his problems and issues. Only this time, it’s not the look of a disapproving friend, but the look of an almost medical professional who doesn’t need years of exposure to Tony’s charming personality to spot that lie the moment it’s been spoken.

“Okay. I _might_ be feeling... A bit under the weather.”

“Uh-huh.”

For a moment, Tony tries to decide if he’s already recovered enough to get up and bolt after all. He’s pretty much done with his toast, and while that herbal tea tasted like sewage water, at least it woke him up completely. He might just make it. But then he thinks about actually managing to escape, and being all on his own again, and running away from Bruce who certainly did nothing to deserve that kind of treatment, and his formidable plan falls like a house of cards in the wind tunnel.

“It’s been a... Rough coupe of days”, is what he settles on saying instead, unthinkingly taking another sip of tea.

A mistake, of course, but while he does end up gagging, he actually manages to keep from spewing it everywhere, and ends up swallowing it with a grimace and a disgusted shudder. There, already getting better! Maybe he’ll be ready to try eating some vegetables next. Or not. That might just send his body into an existential crisis. Better not risk it.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Fuck no!”, he mutters darkly as he takes yet another sip of tea (seriously, what the hell is wrong with him?), “‘s bad enough as it is, thank you very much. No use in thinking about it even more. Already do that way too much, anyway.”

It this point, he’s grateful for every single moment where he doesn’t think about any of this shit show. No way in hell is going to sit here and talk about his most recent trauma/most pressing problems in depth, no fucking way! Even if Bruce is looking at him as though he’d like nothing more than to play therapist on top of everything else.

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”

“It’s been working so far, right?”, Tony murmurs, gazing into his mug (and the healthily green stuff that’s supposed to be tea), because he just can’t look at Bruce right now.

He’s well aware of the fact that he’s talking shit, and he also knows that there’s no way he’s fooling Bruce. That man is no fool, and anyway- Tony’s not in any state to try and lie his way out of this one, or even act like he doesn’t feel as shitty as he does. But admitting- Nope, that won’t happen, either.

“So, you’re just going to- What? Keep this up until you collapse?”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve been through worse already, Brucie. Dealt with it the same way I’m doing now. And I’m still, perfectly fine! I don’t see any reason to change a winning tactic, that’s all.”

Every single word in that statement tastes like ash, but he keeps talking, anyway. Silence wouldn’t feel all that good, either, and talking keeps him busy, even if he still can’t bring himself to look at Bruce. He knows it’s a shitty lie, but he can’t stop, either, and he’s almost scared of what would happen if he closed his big mouth for a single moment and actually though about what _wants_ to say, what he _needs_ to say, because he’s got a feeling Bruce would really stay and listen.

“And I’m confident that once I’ve had about a gallon of black, scalding coffee, I’ll be just--”

“Look, I know we haven’t known each other for all that long”, Bruce interrupts him quietly, “and I understand that it can be... _Difficult_ to talk about the heavier stuff. But I also think we both know that whatever you’re trying to do- It isn’t working. Not at all. And I think you’ve been aware of that fact for quite some time, too.”

He says all of this with such a calm, quiet voice that Tony can’t help but feel like getting angry. His blood is already starting to boil, and he can tell his expression is getting darker as his hands clench and feels his jaws tighten- No, this isn’t good, and he can’t ignore the irony of loosing control right in front of _Doctor Bruce Banner_ , of all people, but he’s way too busy feeling the rage grow inside of his body to think about complex shit like that.

“You don’t know _shit_ \--”

“Actually, I know a fair bit about trauma and all the difficulties that come with it. So, when I tell you that _this_ ”, he takes a moment to widely gesture at _Tony himself_ , as if that is not the most insulting thing to do in that very moment, “isn’t working, it is meant as a warning. I’ve been there, and I’ve tried to make it work just like you do right now. I’d just like to spare any additional heartbreak.”

Tony is... Actually lost for words. Must be because of the alcohol, because there’s no fucking way Bruce just managed to render him completely speechless with less than five sentences. No fucking way. He’s Tony Fucking Stark, and that- That got old just about a week ago, too. So, he’s only Tony Stark, and that’s a not really all that great right about now.

“I don’t want to insult you, Tony. I also don’t want to act like I know exactly what’s going, and what’s troubling you. But I’ve seen the signs, and I can tell you’re anything but okay, and I’d like to offer my help. If you ever want to talk about any of this- I’ll listen. And I won’t judge you, either.”

Again- Tony doesn’t know what to say. Even though it’d be really easy. All he has to do right now is open his big fucking mouth and say that yes, he’d actually appreciate someone who’d just sit in front of him and listen to him spilling his guts, without any judgement, too, because he’s been through a lot these past few days/weeks/months/years, and it kind of feels like all of that shit is finally catching up to him, and since he never bothered trying out therapy, he’s woefully unprepared when it comes to sorting out his trauma.

In the end, he doesn’t say any of that, of course. Because he just- Can’t.

“Thanks. But I’m good, buddy. Just- Gotta get some sleep, and not think for a few hours, but then it’ll be just fine. But I appreciate the worrying mother hen routine. Really sweet”, he adds with a grin as he reaches over to pat Bruce’s knee a couple of times.

There’s a moment when he’s sure that the other man will say something else. He can see it in his eyes, and he has to fight to not cringe and flinch back from the fierce sadness and disappointment that’s waiting for him there, because what the fuck did he- And why should he even care to begin with? It’s not like any of this really--

“I’m gonna take my leave now, too. There’s some shit in the lab I still have to figure out, and then I’ll to bed and remind my body that sleep actually exists. So, if you’ll excuse me--”

“Actually, would you mind if I came with you?”

“Uh... Why?”

Bruce only shrugs as he gathers the mug and plate from Tony’s hand and starts to walk towards the kitchen once again.

“To be honest, I’d simply love to see your lab. I haven’t had any chance to ask you for a tour, and if you’re already heading down...”

It’s actually kinda cute, the way Bruce doesn’t finish that sentence, and seems a tiny bit flustered at the mere request. It makes Tony grin, because he honestly gets it. They’re both men of science, after all, and the Tower’s lab is a piece of art. Still grinning, Tony steps up beside Bruce and slaps a hand onto his shoulder.

“Of course, Brucie! All you had to do is ask! But that doesn’t matter, because we’re gonna head downstairs right now, and I’ll show you everything you wanna see! How does that sound? Amazing? Pretty sure it sounds amazing, because it’s _me_ , offering you a tour through _my_ lab. That’s absolutely _wonderful_ , _magnificent_ \--”

“Yes, it is, but only if you stop talking right now”, Bruce chuckles, but allows himself to be pulled along towards the elevator without resistance.

“How’s Fenrir doing?”

Tony flinches at the question, and he can tell that Bruce notices. Too late to change it now, though, and so he quickly schools his expression into something neutral before answering.

“Yeah, he’s- He’s been through a lot. So, I’ve been giving him some space. Kid’s been pretty skittish around most people, and I don’t want him to feel crowded. Would probably be best if you guys steered clear of him for the time being as well. Let him settle down, and once he’s ready we’ll- See.”

He inwardly cringes at his own words, because it sounds like bullshit- Because it is. Tony has no idea what he’s doing, but he knows he’s fucking up with every moment he doesn’t figure it out. And he’s pretty sure that everyone around him can see that as well, since at this point it’s impossible to miss even from a mile away. So, his failure is on display for every single person that happens to pass by. Great. Just what he needs.

“Does he know about what... Happened?”

“What do you mean?”, Tony asks with a frown, and only then does he turn around to look at Bruce again.

It’s a surprising sight, because the guy doesn’t look angry or disappointed at all. Just... Sad? Yeah, he looks pretty sad, frowning down at the ground, as if he’s thinking about something rather upsetting.

“Does he know how his father was captured? What we- What _I_ did?”

And- Oh. That’s... Yeah, Tony hadn’t even thought about that, to be honest. He was too busy dealing with everything else, or whatever he wants to call his sad attempt at problem solving. Now that he thinks about it, though, he can kinda see why Bruce might be worried about what the kid thinks about him. And why he looks like something crawled into his mouth and died there not too long ago.

“Uh... I dunno, to be honest. I mean, I didn’t say anything, and he only got there after it was already over, so... Hey, J, does the kid know about what went down in the living room?”

_I do not believe that to be the case, sir. No one has mentioned anything about his father’s capture to him, and I have refrained from even bringing up the topic of his family at all._

“Guess that’s your answer, then”, Tony mutters with a shrug as he turns back to Bruce, “kid doesn’t know. Probably better to keep it that way. Can’t imagine that conversation going well.”

In fact, he can’t imagine any conversation going well when it comes to that kid. Not just those about yet another traumatic separation from his father, but any conversation at all. Mostly because the kid still hasn’t uttered a single word, and has only stared at Tony with those wide, frightened eyes, and that’s really no base for social interaction--

“I think you’re right about that. I just hope he doesn’t- I know what I did was necessary, but still--”

“Yeah, I- I get that”, Tony murmurs, because he does.

It’s those damn grey areas all over again, because sure, Loki was a villain. But he’s also Fenrir’s father, and no matter how psychotic he might be- Tony can’t really argue with that fact that he apparently wasn’t that bad of a father. In the end, it doesn’t matter what they saw, because the kid only saw his father, who was once again dragged away, leaving him alone in a strange world, in the care of people who are worryingly unqualified for that sort of job.

They remain quiet for the rest of the elevator ride, and Tony’s glad Bruce doesn’t offer some sort of advice on that particular topic as well. He’s not sure how that would’ve gone. Instead, he starts to tell Bruce all about the things he’s been working on for the last couple of weeks- Which admittedly isn’t all that much, but it’s enough to keep a conversation alive as they walk through the hallway and the lab doors slide open. Tony’s in the middle of explaining the newest modification to the suit’s repulsers when they step into the lab and his eyes catch something in the corner of his vision. It’s such a small thing, but its absence has been so profoundly noticed that he isn’t even surprised anymore. Just like that, anything he might’ve been about to say dies on the tip of his tongue as he turns around, staring into a certain corner of the lab. Bruce comes to a halt as well, and Tony hears him suck in a breath as they both seem a little unsure about how to proceed in this matter.

“JARVIS? What’s the kid doing down here?”, he asks quietly after a few seconds of tense silence.

_Fenrir was unable to go back to sleep once he returned to his room a few hours ago. He asked if he was allowed to leave his room, and I told him he was allowed to move however he pleased for the entire Tower. He decided to come down to the lab and fell asleep about two minutes and twelve seconds after he sat down. I decided not to wake him, as he was rather exhausted._

Tony can only nod, because that sounds pretty logical, even to his exhausted brain. Still, he doesn’t miss the fact how JARVIS leaves out a few choice details- Like why he didn’t bother telling Tony about the fact that the kid had wandered through the Tower in the middle of the night, or that he was sleeping down here, even when they were on their way down... It’s better not to ask right now. Instead, he takes a moment to walk a little closer and take a look at the kid. He’s curled up on the blankets he never got around to throw out, one of them wrapped tightly around his small form, and he doesn’t even wake up when Tony hesitantly reaches out to brush a hand through that soft, blond hair. Why he does it in the first place, he’s not entirely sure. Must be the fatigue.

“Is he okay?”

_Most certainly, Doctor Banner. Fenrir is still exhausted from the ordeal he went through, and he has some trouble adjusting to his new life. Physically, though, I detect no injury or sickness. I will immediately inform Mister Stark in case that changes._

Tony really hopes it doesn’t come to that. He has no idea how to deal with sick children, and he’s not all that eager to find out how spectacularly he’d fuck that up, too. No, he’ll just have to hope that the kid stays healthy and recovers sooner rather than later. For now, Fenrir only curls into an even smaller ball, mumbling something Tony doesn’t understand. Probably better, and he also pulls his hand back quickly. No need in waking the kid up just yet.

“Do you want me to check on him?”

“Uh, no. Think he’s alright for now. JARVIS would tell us otherwise.”

Also, he has a feeling the kid wouldn’t appreciate being woken up by both of them. Tony’s pretty sure Fenrir wouldn’t mind him all that much, but Bruce... Bruce is an entirely different story. And if there’s one thing the boy definitely doesn’t need, it’s stress.

“Do you want to take him back upstairs?”

“Nah, I don’t think that’d be a good idea. How long as he been asleep, J?”

_Approximately three hours, sir._

“That’s nowhere near enough. We’ll just leave him here, let him get some rest. JARVIS, lemme know once he wakes- Actually, just make sure to guide him back to his room.”

“Tony, are you sure that’s the--”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure. As sure as I can be, at least. C’mon, we’ll just- We’ll postpone the tour, okay? Don’t wanna disturb the kid.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he quickly grabs onto the Bruce’s elbow and pulls him along as he makes his way back towards the elevator. The other man hesitates, keeps looking back over his shoulder, but Tony doesn’t relent. He himself doesn’t dare to glance back, because there’s that pit opening in his stomach once again, which makes him feel shaky and nauseous. It’s not good, it really isn’t, but he knows there’s nothing to be done about it right now- Especially when Bruce is _right there_ , and looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. No, he doesn’t need any more witnesses to this, and he’s too tired to deal with any of this. The image of that small, vulnerable kid curled up on the ground is still vibrating behind his forehead, and he already knows he won’t be able to shake it for a while to come. No, he shouldn’t leave the boy here, but he can’t stay, either. He needs to get out of here, because his chest is getting tight, and his lungs are slowly shrinking with every breath, with every step he takes- Away from the kid. God, he feels awful! He feels so fucking awful and dirty and like the world’s biggest coward, and he hates himself with a newfound passion.

“Maybe we should try and--”

“Nope, Brucie, we’re just gonna get out of here, and I’m gonna deal with it later on.”

“But are you sure we shouldn’t--”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure--”

“Tony, I really think we--”

“Look!”, Tony hisses once they reach the elevator and step inside, “your concern is appreciated, but not needed! Kid’s just exhausted, he’s sleeping it off. I don’t see what waking him up would accomplish right now, so how about we just leave him the hell alone, huh?”

Okay, so maybe his voice is getting a little loud towards the end, and maybe his hands are shaking, and maybe he needs to shut the fuck up and calm down, because why is he even yelling at Bruce? Breathing a small sigh, he shakes his head and leans back against the elevator.

“I know- I know you’re only trying to help. But the kid’s just been through _yet another traumatic event_ , and I don’t think we need to force ourselves upon him, okay? He’ll come once he’s gotten a bit more comfortable. Until then, I’m gonna give him some space.”

He can tell that Bruce has a lot to say about that, and he’s already tensing, because it definitely won’t be pleasant. But after a few seconds filled with nothing but uncomfortable silence, Bruce simply lets out a small sigh and nods.

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right. Just- Let me know if you need any help? I know this isn’t any easy situation for you- For any of us, really- So if you need anything--”

“I’ll let you know, alright? But it’s all good for now. So, let’s just stop talking about it. I’m way too tired for that, anyway.”

Again, the lies tastes _awful_ , but he can’t stop talking, and he also can’t bring himself to just tell Bruce how _terrible_ he feels, how small and scared and unqualified. Instead, he makes sure to smile his best fake smile and wave cheerfully at Bruce when the man hesitantly gets off the elevator a couple of seconds later. Once the door slides close again, his entire body slumps and he allows his eyes to slide shut. He’s trembling again, but that must be the sleep deprivation, the caffeine withdrawal, and that hangover he kinda forgot about. Yeah, he needs to get some sleep as well, and then- Then things will be better. They just have to be, because... Well, he’s not sure what he’ll do if they’re not.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter (shocker, I know), but I'm getting back into writing, and the next chapter should be ready in a few days! Also, I think there'll still be 2-3 more chapters (I suck at estimating stuff like that, things always end up a lot longer than I thought they would), but we'll get there in time...  
> As always, I'd love to hear what you think, comments and kudos fuel my writing!  
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

Thing don’t get better. Instead, they only get worse from that very moment on. Once he makes it to his bed, he collapses right on top of it, barely managing to kick off his shoes and not bothering to crawl under the covers. He’s too tired, and it’s a good thing, too. Means that he’s exhausted enough to pass out the moment his head hits the pillow, skipping his usual nightly ritual, which consists of his fear and doubts spinning in his head until he feels physically sick to the stomach. Doesn’t happen today, since his brain is simply too tired to come up with any worst case scenarios - As likely as they might be at this point in time.

Instead, he ends up dreaming about Afghanistan. Not... Good, per say, but at least it’s something he’s used to by now. Pretty sad, if he thinks about it, which he doesn’t, since he’s sleeping, and too busy panicking and shaking as he moves through those fucking caves again, in the very first suit he ever built. He feels heavy, so fucking heavy it’s almost impossible to move, completely different from that feeling of weightlessness he’s come to know and love, the way he feels when he puts the suit on these days and fucking _flies_. Not like that at all. He’s heavier, slower, bigger than he ever was before, and he swears he can feel himself grow with every single step he takes, until his head, his shoulders, his knees scrape against the cave walls, resulting in an ugly screeching sound. Or maybe the caves are shrinking? He isn’t sure. But he keeps on moving, with glacial speed, though, and his ears are ringing and every muscle in his bones feels like lead. Still, he keeps on going, because he knows he needs to get the fuck out of here, and that this is his only chance. Slowly, ever so slowly he makes his way through his very personal hell, desperately looking for a way out, and that’s when he sees him. It’s always the same, yet it doesn’t get easier. No matter how many times he comes across that torn apart body, every time he sees the blood and watches a good man bleed out right then and there, it feels as bad as it did the first time around. Makes everything stop for a moment, and it feels as though every last drop of his blood falls down towards his feet, making him feel dizzy, with an empty head and a clenched heart. It never gets any easier, and yet he never manages to actually walks by. He’s tried, of course. During his more lucid nights, when he’s actually aware that this is a dream, he’s tried to walk into another direction, to not look, to just fucking walk by, but it never works. It’s like it’s pulling him in- The smell of blood, the wheezing breaths he hears with startling clarity, and he’s powerless.

Only this time, it’s not Yinsen. It’s Loki, lying in front of him, with blood pouring out of his body as he fights for each breath he takes. Tony feels his heart clench and then start to beat faster and faster, slowly walking towards the other man, eyes fixed on Loki’s- _Green_ ones, and somehow that matters, he knows it does, but he can’t remember... Then he reaches his side, leans forward and stares down, as Loki twitches and his head slowly turns towards him, dark blood running from his mouth. And Tony stares, frozen and lost and confused as Loki opens his mouth, gurgling with blood as he forces some words out.

“They are all gone”, he wheezes, blood spraying into Tony’s face when the god coughs wetly, “they are all gone, Stark. Please... Please, let me follow them. Let me see them again...”

He screams himself awake, just as the lights leaves those green eyes, just as Loki dies right in front of him, and then he has to jump out of bed and sprint towards the bathroom when he starts to gag a moment later. Thankfully, he makes it to the toilet just in time, because vomiting all over his bedroom floor would’ve been the last thing he needs right about now. It’s mostly the Scotch he had just a few hours ago, along with some toast and that god awful tea he drank for whatever reason, but the scent is absolutely vile and forces him to throw him once more. It takes a him a couple of moments to calm down, but he actually manages to push himself onto two shaky legs and get a cup water. After that, he trudges back to his bed and slumps back onto the mattress, dragging a hand over his sweaty face, through his messy hair.

_Sir, do you require--_

“No, I don’t fucking require anything!”, he growls as he fights to calm his breathing and stop shaking quite as hard, “only thing I require is some peace and quiet, for fuck’s sake!”

JARVIS thankfully keeps quiet after that, and Tony allows his eyes to slip shut again as he takes a few deliberately slow and deep breaths. The adrenaline is still coursing through his veins, making him want to get up and- And what? That’s always the questions, during nights like this. Too keyed up to go back to sleep, too exhausted to do anything that requires even an ounce of concentration. He’s stuck here in his bed, not only because he feels too weak in the knees to actually get up, but also because he has no idea what time it is, and if anyone else is currently awake, and possibly lurking in the hallways. As much as he’d like to just leave his room, if only to spend the next hours or two pacing the Tower, he won’t fucking risk running into anyone. That’s just not something he could handle right now. He’ll just- Stay here. Try to calm down, and then... Whatever. He’ll see once he gets there.

It takes an awfully long time for Tony to calm down again. But he does get there, after a while, He does his best to use some of the breathing exercises Rhodey showed him, and he tries to think of- Happy things. Which turns out to be difficult, since his life is currently pretty much _fucked_ in every single aspect, but he tries. In the end, he conjures up the image of his living room in Malibu, because that place always felt more like home that the Tower ever has (and probably ever will). Think about the sun setting over the ocean, having a drink and breathing in the cool, salty air. That works, a little bit. Then, he goes one step further and thinks about the nights he spent on that sofa, with Rhodey. Eating take-out, watching some crappy actions movies (all the while complaining about the scientific inaccuracies until his friend told him to shut up and just enjoy it for once), the beers they shared, laughing until the sun rose again--

It’s nice while it lasts. Until it’s no longer just the two of them, but a certain giant wolf as well, who rests his head on the sofa beside them, whining until he gets his ears scratched, wagging his tail when they feed him a few slices of pizza, gently taking Tony’s hand into his maw and nipping on his fingers--

That’s as far as he allows it to go. The moment he sees Sato’s golden-brown eyes in his mind, he shakes himself awake, blinking furiously until they’re gone again. His throat is tight all of a sudden, but he doesn’t acknowledge it in any way, because why the fuck would he? There’s nothing- It’s all gone, after all. There’s no Sato anymore. Sato is... Gone. Tony’s wolf is gone, and that’s... Unfortunate, sure, but also not something he can dwell on. There’s- Well, there’s that kid now, in the wolf’s place, and he should be... Tony is not entirely sure what he’s supposed to feel. He hasn’t been, for a while now. What the fuck are you supposed to feel when you’re suddenly faced with a- A child? A child you had no idea existed, right after getting over the fact that you might just be able to take care of something that could maybe be considered a pet at best? Because that’s where he was, back when Loki showed up in his living room, without an invitation at that. Just about accepting the fact that he might just be stuck with Sato for the foreseeable future, maybe even for the rest of his life. That was... A lot, but it was also kind of okay. Very okay, most days, because Tony loved his wolf, and dammit, if there was no one else to take the giant animal in, then he’d more than ready to take on that challenge! But children... Children are something completely different. Tony likes to think that he understood Sato, more or less, and but with kids- He’s never gotten along with kids. Hasn’t even had all that much contact with them, because he tended to steer clear of them, and the idea of raising one of his own was enough to terrify him on the best of days.

“How’s the kid?”, he hears himself mutter, even though he doesn’t even want to have an answer to that question.

_Sato has returned to his room about three hours ago. Since he was hungry, I arranged for a small meal to be brought to him, and after an early dinner he went back to sleep. Would you like to see--_

“No, no, I’m good, I’m good. Just- Let me know if something’s... Wrong, I guess.”

_What would constitute as “wrong” in this very situation, sir?_

And that’s the question, isn’t it? Tony stares at the ceiling for a few more seconds as he tries to formulate an answer. What would be _wrong_ , here? What would even be _normal_ in this situation? Tony sure as fuck wouldn’t know. Him and normal have never been all that close. Not when it came to himself, and certainly not when it comes to children. He’s got no fucking idea what would be normal for a kid, or a teenager of- What? How... How old is--

“JARVIS, how- How old is the kid?”

_Though I can not be entirely sure, considering all the information currently at hand I was estimate Fenrir’s age to be close to fourteen years, in relation to the human lifespan._

“A teenager.”

_Indeed, sir. I would like to add, however, that he does not seem to behave like the typical teenager--_

“So, no excessive drinking, cursing, and generally bad mood?”

That’s all Tony knows about teenagers, anyway. Not much to go on, sure, and he knows that all too well. But if Sa- Fenrir’s not displaying any of that shit, there might just be a chance, that...

_No, sir. For the duration of his stay, he has been acting like a much younger child would. He seems to be rather shy and timid, easily frightened and he has been following directions without a word of complaint._

“Uh, wow. Can’t say I expected that.”

_If I may ask- What exactly were you expecting, sir?_

“Didn’t really- For fuck’s sake, I didn’t expect anything!”, he groans as he struggles into an upright position, rubbing at his burning eyes, “I didn’t expect a giant fucking wolf teleporting into my lab, I didn’t expect some crazy space viking wizard showing up and trying to conquer earth, I didn’t expect those boy scouts of weirdness _or_ the fact that they’d let me join, and I never fucking thought that my wolf would turn into a fucking kid! And I didn’t expect--”

_With all due respect, sir, but you could have denied--_

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Okay, so, Tony didn’t plan on screaming. Which is... Bad, because he doesn’t usually scream at JARVIS, because he happens to like his AI, and he knows that he’d be lost without him, but this- This is getting a little too close to being painful. Still, he’s fucking angry, and there’s no one else but JARVIS around, and so he’s screaming- Who the fuck cares? He knows _he_ should care, but he doesn’t, since he’s fucking angry--

“What was I supposed to do, huh? Just say _no_ to that guy? Tell him that I wasn’t ready to take in his fucking kid, because I’d only signed up for a giant wolf? Yeah, that sounds really fucking great! Especially since there was literally _no one else_ who would look after the kid, and Loki was just about ready to--”

That’s where he breaks off, because it’s getting kinda painful again. He’s been making an effort to _not_ think about Loki as often as he’d like to. Sure, there’s that whole thing about re-watching the security footage, and staring into those _green fucking eyes_ until the sun rises (or sets again, he doesn’t really care during those times), but he’s been trying to cut back on the amount of time he spends that way . Instead, he’s been sitting on his sofa in the living room, staring at the ruined marble floor and wondering how the fuck he ended up here. So much better, of course. Letting out a small sigh, Tony shakes his head and falls back onto the mattress, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his face. God, he’s fucking _tired_.

“There’s no way I could’ve sent that kid away, J”, he murmurs into the quiet and the darkness, “where was he supposed to go? Back to those murderous bastards, so that they could finally finish the job and fucking - What did Thor say - Cut off his head and mount it on some wall?”

_As much as I agree with you on this, you still seem to regret--_

“Yeah, I- I dunno if that’s the right word. It’s just- _A lot_.”

Yet he’s still convinced that he never could’ve sent the kid away. That would’ve been the same as _killing_ the boy himself, as far as he’s concerned. And Tony might be a lot of things (some of them less than positive, he’s well aware of that), but he’s not a killer. He also likes to think that he’d step up and defend whoever needs defending from murderous Santa Clause - Especially when it comes to innocent children. And Loki- Yeah, okay, he’s ready to admit it: He’s biased. Very fucking biased when it comes to that guy, because- And that’s where he always stops that train of thought, because he needs to hold onto his last few shreds of sanity with everything he’s got. But he knows he’s fucked in that regard. Might be because Loki turned out completely different from what he expected, might be because the guy’s actually pretty damn smart and interesting (which is one way to word it safely), because he was ready to give up his life and freedom in a heartbeat if it gave his son even the smallest chance to get out of his sad existence, or maybe because Tony’s completely sure that Loki’s been through a lot of shit in his life already and somehow only snapped after Odin Assfather made him believe his _child_ had died--

“JARVIS. Give me everything you#ve got on Loki.”

_Would you like to watch the security--_

“No, I mean... The other stuff. You know all those stories and legends we’ve got on those guys. Northern mythology, that kinda shit. Think it’s time we do some research, huh?”

It’s long overdue, actually, but neither of them mentions it. Tony doesn’t, because he doesn’t want to admit he’s been dragging his feet way too long (because he didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t ready to learn even more tragic stuff when he’s still reeling from the vague shit Loki told him that day on the sofa), and JARVIS because he’s too polite. But it’s fucking time he stops hiding from what can apparently be considered facts. The sooner he gets this over with, the sooner he can- Well, there’s still some hope he might learn something useful. Something that helps him understand, because he knows there are more holes in what he’s heard from Loki than he can bother to count, and he doesn’t like being clueless. Especially when it comes to things directly impacting his own life.

“Start at the very beginning, whatever that might be. Don’t leave anything out, you hear me? I wanna know what makes that guy tick, and what made him tick the way he did when he came here.”

_Of course, sir. Would you like to read through some of the most popular translations of the Edda, or would you prefer for me to give you a detailed summary?_

“I’ll take the summary, I think. Bring up those translations, though, I wanna have a look at those, too. Also, don’t forget to cross-reference that with everything Houdini told us, and try to do the same with Thor, with whatever footage we’ve got from him.”

Tony’s pretty sure they’ll be busy for a while with that, which is just fine with him. Not like there’s anything he’s got to get done, and he’s just considering getting up and organizing some booze to make the entire process a bit more enjoyable, when JARVIS starts talking again.

_Would you also hear about Fenrir, sir?_

“Uh...”

And okay, that’s a lot harder to answer. Tony knows that it wouldn’t be pretty, considering what Loki told him already. Still, it’ll be different once JARVIS confirms it all, so Tony isn’t sure if he’s ready. Then again, there might just be something there that explains some of the shit that has been going on. And if there’s even the smallest chance to actually--

“... Yeah. Yeah, tell me about him, too. But, uh, we’re gonna start with Loki, and work out way up there. Try to give me a decent timeline, alright?”

_Certainly, sir._

Tony nods at that, still fighting the nausea that’s crawling up his throat, swallowing a couple of times to avoid throwing up once again. No, he’s fine, just fine. It’s just research, after all. And if it brings him even a single step closer to finding- Something that might help him deal with... _All of this_ , he’ll fucking take it. At least that’s what he tells himself as he settles against the headboard and grabs the tablet that’s lying on his nightstand, tapping the screen with trembling fingers.

“Great, then let’s- Let’s get started, I guess. No time like the present, after all.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, definitely back on track :D still a few chapters to go it seems (I really do suck at estimating stuff like that), but I'll get it done soon enough. I hope you're still enjoying this installment (frustrating as it might be), and stick around to see the conclusion! I don't really have the time to thoroughly edit right now, please let me know if there are any grave mistakes I've missed.  
> As always, I'd love to know what you think!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

Turns out Tony is an idiot. A real stupid idiot, because it took him fucking _weeks_ to actually do his fucking research on the person he was fighting, because he didn’t believe in the kind of advantage that could’ve gained him. Well- He’s not sure if any of the shit he learns over those couple of hours really could’ve served him in any way he can currently think of, but still... It would’ve been good to know. If only to realize that it’s all about those grey areas a lot sooner than just a couple of days ago. In a way. In another way, it’s still pretty black and white.

So, it turns out Loki’s been through some shit, and that’s putting it mildly. As Tony browses through countless tellings of the god’s life, intently listening to JARVIS’s summary of most of it, he slowly starts to understand that- Yeah, he kinda sees the god’s point. He _gets_ why the guy went fucking ballistic, because even without losing his _last_ child... Let’s just say it’s no wonder he snapped. Because holy fucking shit, it turns out Loki has a few other children as well! And none of them are with him anymore, for one reason or another, and that’s sad enough as it is, but the shit those myths talk about- One of them ruling their equivalent to the underworld, another being used as Odin’s horse (and Tony has to swallow when he realizes that he actually saw what must’ve been Fenrir’s half-sibling down on the street, that weird eight-legged horse), and a serpent that’s apparently living in the earth’s ocean (and he thinks for a moment if he should ask Thor about that whole story being true, because that thought is fucking _terrifying_ ). Yeah, what a happy family they seem to be... And they’d probably be just that, if Odin the Almighty Asshole hadn’t decided to break them apart, because of that motherfucking prophecy!

Oh, and Tony reads through that one, too. It’s a load of bullshit, that’s for sure! He catches himself shaking his head as he listens to JARVIS tell him all about how the wolf was bound, how he apparently bit of some dumb guy’s hand (which neither Thor nor Loki mentioned, so maybe that’s bullshit as well), how they rammed a sword into his maw (and he shudders at that image as he remembers the necrotic tissue on the roof of Sato’s mouth), and then left him there to die. Yeah. It was horrible, and he still asks JARVIS to pull up some of their older footage to cross-reference every he’s learning now with the wolf’s condition back then. It’s all awfully clear and simple by now, because JARVIS was right- Chain marks. Cuts from swords, most likely, and someone must’ve come after him when he was fled from that fucking island, because why else would there be two arrows sticking in his muscles? So yeah, he gets it now. That doesn’t make things any better, of course, if anything he feels even worse. But that’s not even the worst part. No, the worst part is the whole shit shot that fucking prophecy foretold: About Fenrir getting free again, and him running wild and fighting and killing people and just generally bringing doom and gloom. It’s _bullshit_. There’s no fucking way in heaven or hell (or whatever those space weirdos might call it) that Sato/ Fenrir would do _any_ of this. No fucking way. Tony knows that, knows that without the shadow of a doubt. Not his wolf. And definitely not the kid hiding just a few doors down, who was too scared to even look Odin in the eye when he was questioned. Tries as he might, Tony just can’t see any of the monster that’s described in the Edda in the wolf he’s gotten to know pretty well over the last couple of months. There’s no trace of that murderous creature in those golden-brown eyes, and... Well, it’s just not true. Sato never would’ve hurt him, he never even tried, and he sure as shit had a lot of opportunities! He never did, though. Not even once, and that has to mean something.

“You reckon the guy who wrote this shit even knew Sato?”, he mutters after another passage about how Loki’s kids are supposed to fuck up the entire known Universe, “‘cause this sure as fuck doesn’t sound like him at all.”

_Since the Poetic Edda was compiled in the 13th century from earlier traditional source, the argument could be made that--_

“Yeah, that wasn’t really a question that needed to be answered. Highly doubt anyone’s ever actually seen any of these guys, or we’d know, right? Though we can’t be sure, of course. Definitely should’ve asked Loki before he got the chance to fuck off”, he mutters as he rubs at his tired eyes before focusing on the next passage.

_I could always attempt to contact Mr. Odinson if you wish to--_

“Uh, no, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Tony’s got a feeling he wouldn’t be able to control himself should face Thor in the near future. He might still be day dreaming about punching that blond idiot in the face every other hour, and so he better not risk it. Not for something like this. He isn’t all the sure he wants an actual answer, anyway.

“Considering everything Loki and Thor told us themselves, there are still a couple of discrepancies”, Tony finally sighs as he narrows his eyes and tries to make sense of those weirdly worded passages, “so, we can’t be sure what’s the truth, and what’s been made up. Which is just superb, too, since there’s no one around we could ask about that kinda stuff.”

_If I may suggest, sir: You could try to contact Miss Jane Foster. She might have some additional information on the subject._

Tony thinks about that for all of two seconds before he starts shaking his head again. Not going to drag any more people into this mess. He’s read some of Jane’s work, and he knows she’s brilliant, but this- This is none of her concern. The fewer people know about Fenrir, the better. Also, he has a feeling that SHIELD wouldn’t approve if he just started asking around, and he’s not in the mood to fight them on this particular topic as well.

Frowning, he scrolls through some more passages, cursing under his breath because whoever wrote all of this fucking sucks at expressing themselves (he’s getting a headache just from trying to decipher this shit, and he’s used to reading way more complicated stuff for _bedtime stories_ ), and it’s actually giving him headache. Might as be the hangover, the fatigue, the lack of food, dehydration, or just the content he’s been working through for hours now. Letting out another small sigh, he finally throws the tablet onto the mattress and rubs a hand over his burning eyes.

“Gonna take a break here”, he murmurs as he stretches and listens to his joints pop, “gimme an update on the kid, J.”

_Certainly, sir. Fenrir is still in his room and has been asleep for approximately seven hours. It is the longest he has rested without any disturbance, and I suggest to not wake him, as he still appears to be rather exhausted._

“Shit. You sure there’s nothing wrong with him?”, Tony mutters as he tries to summon the energy and motivation to actually get out of bed, because he has to at some point, “that doesn’t sound healthy at all.”

_My scanners have not detected any signs of sickness or injury so far, sir. Of course, you could always ask Doctor Banner to examine Fenrir, though I would suggest to talk to him beforehand, as he seems to be rather scared of the other individuals residing--_

“Yeah, don’t think that’s gonna happen. Let’s just- Leave him be. Might be better for now. Kid’s been through more than enough already.”

By now, he has at least managed to get out of bed and is padding towards his bathroom, still yawning and cringing at the sounds of protest his body is making in the process of moving there. A shower, he needs a long fucking shower, and then he needs to get some actual food and actually _keep it inside_ this time around, and then he’ll- He’ll try to make things better. That’s the plan, at least.

The shower helps. As does finally brushing his teeth and changing out of his stinking shirt and sweatpants. Once he’s put on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt he finally dares to leave his room and venture out into the hallway. Thankfully, he’s somehow managed to miss almost the entire day, and since it’s about ten pm already, he’s the only one currently moving around.

_Captain Rogers has retired to his room for the night. Doctor Banner has done the same, but has asked me to let you know he will be available at a moment’s notice should you wish for some company. Agent Romanov and Agent Barton have left the Tower for undisclosed reason and are unlikely to return before tomorrow morning._

Which is just great, because Tony’s definitely not in the mood for any sort of confrontation. Of course, Bruce offer is nothing but sweet (and also just a little bit heartwarming), but Tony still isn’t considering it. No, he doesn’t want to talk. But it’s good to know that if he did, there’d be someone willing to listen. As it is, he pads into the kitchen and opens the fridge, pulling out some leftover chinese take-out and putting it into the microwave. He’s not in any position to be picky, and anyway- It’s more about a necessity and less about enjoyment.

“Kid still asleep?”

_Fenrir has woken up about ten minutes ago. He seemed to be confused about his whereabouts, and started to cry after I explained his situation once again, and has been inconsolable ever since._

“Shit. You think we should worry about him forgetting about... Where he is?”

_I am rather certain there is no reason for concern, sir. Fenrir is usually able to grasp his situation rather quickly once provided with visual cues and a short explanation. I believe his confusion to be a result of the trauma and stress he is currently experiencing._

And yeah, that sounds plausible. Still, Tony has to bite his own tongue to keep himself from saying some shit that really don’t need to be said right now. Instead, he forces himself to eat his food and drink some water (no alcohol, even though it’s technically not too early to drink by societal norms), because he needs to get just a little bit closer to being a functional human being if he wants to actually make any of this work. Tony knows he’s not perfect, but he also understands that this is a situation that is so much bigger than himself, and that he needs to get his shit together. If only for an hour or two. Then, he’ll go back to being a mess, since he’s not naive enough to believe there’s any way to fix himself as easily. But he can try. For an hour or two. That’ll have to do right now.

“So, he’s still crying, then?”

_Yes, sir._

“You think- You think I could try and... Talk to him?”

The silence that follows that question is very telling. Of course, Tony’s well aware that he’s usually not the guy you’d send to comfort traumatized children. As it is, he’s the only person around who said traumatized child isn’t terrified of, which is bad enough in itself. If he had the choice, he’d probably send Bruce at this point, simply because that guy _knows_ how to interact with scared people, and Tony himself is about as far from qualified as one can be. But he knows that won’t work, for several reasons. One of them being that Fenrir doesn’t even knows Bruce, so that probably wouldn’t help. And another one... Well, it’s a weird situation, where Tony would love nothing more than to get up and run away, to let _anyone_ else deal with this mess, while at the same time he knows that he won’t be able anyone else but himself with handling this shit show. He’s stuck, and he knows it. But he’s not the only one stuck, and that’s what really matters. That this is, once again, not only about him.

_Sir, have you considered informing Colonel Rhodes about recent events?_

“Yeah, I did. And ‘ve decided against it.”

_Maybe consulting with the Colonel could help--_

“Nope, no, not interested! Already said we won’t do it, so let’s drop this topic, alright, dear?”

Tony knows it would be- Well, helpful, to say the least, to have Rhodey here. If only to actually see someone other than his own tired face for once, and talking to someone he doesn’t have to explain every little nuisance of his fucked-upness until they actually _get it_. But calling Rhodey and having that conversation would entail telling his best friend that the wolf they’ve both come to care for (love, but that’s a big word, too big to even think it in the depths of his own mind, considering the situation at hand) has turned into a human child, and Tony has agreed to take care of said child for the foreseeable future. He’s just not ready for that conversation, to be perfectly honest. Mostly because he’s sure that Rhodey would have a lot to say about that promise and everything that entails, and considering all the doubts and fears Tony already has on his own, he doesn’t really need his best friend to add his as well. He doesn’t need an actual adult to tell him how fucked he actually is, he’s well aware of that fact already.

“We’ll be fine on our own for now, okay? And I don’t think the kid would appreciate him as much now as he did as a wolf, anyway. No reason to add any more stress.”

The AI keeps quiet, and it’s once again rather telling. Tony only rolls his eyes as he finishes his dinner/breakfast/whatever, and then dumps the dirty plate in the sink (no, he won’t wash it, someone else will just have to deal with it). Sighing once again, he slowly pushes himself back to his feet and rotates his neck one way and then the other, cringing at the rather worrying sounds that simple motion evokes. Then, he squares his shoulders and starts to slowly walk back towards the hallway. Time to get this show on the road.

“Kid still awake?”

_Fenrir has stopped crying three and a half minutes ago and is currently resting. He has not fallen back asleep and still seems emotionally distressed. Would you like for me to let him know you are on your way to his room?_

Tony hesitates at that, because he’s not entirely sure. Would probably be better if the boy knew he’s coming, since the kid is probably not expecting any visitors any time soon. On the other hand... What if the kid tells JARVIS that he doesn’t _want_ any visitors? Tony can’t help but flinch at that thought, because that would hurt, even though he knows he probably deserves as much. He’s been a pretty shitty pa- _guardian_ for the last week and a half, so he might as well suffer the consequences. That’s what he tells himself, anyway. There’s another part that knows all too well how fucking _relived_ he’d be to be sent away without even having to open the door. And yeah, he’s ashamed, which is not an emotion he’s well accustomed with. He’s Tony Fucking Stark, he doesn’t _do_ embarrassment. But this thought- this thought makes him want to crawl into the next hole and die from shame.

“Let’s, uh- Let’s keep quiet for now, huh? Just until I get there. And he can let me know if he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

_I sincerely doubt that would be an issue--_

“We’ll let the kid decide on that, alright? Can’t say I’ve been all that _present_ during the last few days. Maybe he’s pissed. I certainly know I’d be in his place”, he mutters as he rounds a corner and comes face to face with the kid’s door.

There was just no way he could let the boy live in the lab any longer. No way in hell. Because he was no longer a wolf, but a child. And a child needs a bed and a bathroom and clothes and a TV, and all that kind of shit. So, he settled the kid in one of the already set up guest rooms (which is actually closer to a small apartment), and hoped it’d work out. It was the right thing to do, after all. Because Sato was no longer a wolf, but rather a young named Fenrir, and Tony had to make sure he never, _ever_ forgot about that small but very important fact. So, a new room. Far away from the lab. Far away form Tony, most of the time. The lab seemed empty, and way too quiet, even if he told JARVIS to turn up the music to point where he almost ripped his eardrums. Maybe that’s the reason work has been nothing but a drag for a while now--

Shaking his head, he comes to a halt in front of the kid’s room. Doesn’t look any different than it did two weeks ago, which is- Well, what did Tony expect, anyway? For a neon sign to appear to inform everyone passing by that there was now a traumatized kid living behind that door, so please be quiet and move along? But here he is, standing right in front of that door, and he wishes he was...Better prepared. Yeah, that’s about it. He really wishes he was better prepared, he wishes he knew what the fuck he’s supposed to do, he wishes he didn’t feel so fucking helpless and out of his depth. But that won’t happen any time soon, so what the fuck is he waiting for? And why the fuck is he still looking at that door like some kind of idiot?

_Fenrir is still awake and--_

“Yeah, yeah, thought as much”, Tony mutters as he stares at the door without using a single muscle.

He doesn’t move, even after JARVIS falls silently and is probably watching him with nothing short of exasperation and maybe a healthy dose of resentment, too. Tony knows that’s pretty much what he feels right now. A lot of resentment, that is. Because he’s still just standing there, staring at a door and not moving a single finger to- Do whatever. Maybe open the door, step inside, talk to the kid, and then just sit down next to him and-- But that’s the thing, isn’t it? That he has no idea what to actually do the moment after he has stepped inside. He is lost, and he doesn’t like it, not one bit.

Makes him feel so fucking useless, because give him something, _anything_ to repair or improve or take apart, and he’ll _nail it_ , because he’s a motherfucking _genius_ \- This, though? This is something he absolutely sucks at. And that’d be okay, if it wasn’t something so damn important. It’d be fine if he sucked at... Knitting, or ventriloquism, or expressive dance, but he just so happens to suck at human interactions, maintaining healthy relationships and talking about anything even remotely close to emotions. That’s kind of a big deal. That’s a handicap that has fucked him over countless times, and the biggest reason why the only relationship he managed to sustain is the one with Rhodey - And that’s mostly due to the fact that the other guy wouldn’t just abandon him, no matter how unacceptable he was behaving. If Tony was the one solely responsible for their friendship... They would’ve parted ways many years ago, sad as it is. So, it’d be fine. If it was only about him. But it isn’t, not anymore. It’s about a kid who didn’t ask for a human wreck as main guardian, who just lost every last bit of security and family he had left, and is now hiding behind the door he’s still staring at. And Tony- Tony won’t be able to do--

_Sir, are you sure you still--_

“Shut it, alright, J? Kinda busy here.”

And he is. He’s busy staring at the door and listening to his heart pounding against his ribs as his hands start to sweat and there’s that disgusting rushing sound in his ears. He is very busy. So busy he can’t even listen to anything JARVIS might have to say, or think about why he’s still not _fucking moving_. He needs to open that door and step inside and then deal with the kid he agreed to take in and somehow make all of this better. Because that’s what he’s gotta do.

But he’s a fucking wreck. He’s a wreck, and that’s okay as long as he’s on his own. The moment he starts to get closer to someone else, it becomes a huge fucking problem. Just ask Pepper. She’s- She’s gone, and with good reason. And Rhodey- Well, Rhodey’s still here, more or less, but Tony knows he’s anything but easy on the best of days. Rhodey’s just a special kind of resilient, and while Tony certainly appreciate that rare quality, he’s also well aware of the fact that even that guy’s patience could run out one day. He knows he’s _difficult_.

_Sir, Fenrir is currently--_

“Jeez, not now, JARVIS!”, he hisses, but his hand is still not moving, and he’s still no closer to actually opening that damn door.

_With all due respect, sir, but I would like to--_

“No, you just stay quiet right now, dear. This- This is not something I need any comments on, alright?”

Because he knows he’s being pathetic. He knows that he’s failing the moment he sets out to actually make things right, and he’s not even surprised. Actually, it’s a miracle he made it this far, considering his track record. And now he’s frozen.

_Sir, you might want to consider--_

“For fuck’s sake, shut up!”, Tony growls, glaring up at the ceiling, “shut the fuck up and give me some fucking time, alright?”

_Certainly, sir._

He can tell the AI doesn’t really mean that, but he’s probably aware of the fact that any more disagreement would cause Tony to explode right now. He’s pretty close as it is, anyway. And still staring at the door, and still not moving, because he’s- He’s fucking terrified, that’s what he is. Because there’s that kid, and he’s supposed to go in there and fix a fucking _child_ , when he’s well aware that he ruins everything he touches. People, at least. Machines are fine. Anything _not alive_ is fine. But people? Yeah, he ruins them. One way or another. And that kid’s next on his list. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Uh, I- I think we’ll have to postpone”, he hears himself murmur, and then he starts moving.

He doesn’t reach for the door, though. Instead, he turns around and starts to walk down the hallway, away from the kid’s room, faster and faster the further he gets away. JARVIS is talking to him, but Tony only shakes his head as he races towards the elevator and quickly steps inside. Once the doors slide closed, he slumps against the wall and lets out a deep breath. He’s fine, he’s just _fine_. Sure, his hands are shaking, his palms are sweaty, his head feels disgustingly empty and there’s that feeling of an invisible hand squeezing his heart and lungs, but he’s. Just. Fucking. Fine!

The lab is quiet. It always is, these days. There’s nothing that drowns out that sort of silence, and Tony has stopped a while ago. Every failed attempt only drives home a fact he’s not comfortable accepting, so he’s given up. He lives with the silence now, for lack of an alternative, and tries to get used to it again. Kinda funny, since he used to work in that kind of setting for _years_ , and it never felt like anything was missing. Almost scary how it took less than half a year to get him used to something completely different. And now... Now, it’s gone, and he’s just not catching up. It feels like part of him is still stuck in the past, while the rest of him is supposed to be right here and now, in the present, where everyone is interacting with him, but he’s barely able to keep up with that small, yet important part of him dragging just a few weeks behind. It was the same with Afghanistan, really. He was back, sure, but a part of him remained in those caves, and he never got it back. It showed, too, and he knows that people were easily able to see, because it was just that fucking obvious, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Tony’s not complete anymore. There’s a hole in--

_Sir, Fenrir has arrived in front of the lab and is waiting for the permission to enter._

“WHAT?!? Why the fuck is the kid here?”

_Fenrir was aware of your presence in front of his room, and has decided to follow you after your retreat. I informed him you had returned to the lab._

“And why the fuck would you do that?”, Tony hisses as he scrambles up onto his feet, “why the fuck would you--”

_Sir, I was under the impression that Fenrir was in fact more than willing to engage in any form of interaction with you, and therefore decided to give him the opportunity to initiate it himself. Would you permit him to enter the lab, or should I tell him to retreat back to his room again, sir?_

JARVIS is perfectly polite, as always, but Tony can tell the AI’s fucking pissed. Which doesn’t happen all that often, and so he doesn’t scream out his frustration, but rather snaps his mouth shut and frowns towards the lab’s door. The kid’s here. He came here by himself. Because, according to JARVIS, he wanted to see Tony. That- That means something, right? That’s gotta mean something. Even though Tony has no idea what exactly. All he knows that he can’t send the boy away again. Not without suffering JARVIS’s rage and hating himself even more fiercely than he already does. So, he only hesitates for a few more seconds before slowly nodding his head.

“Yeah... Yeah, alright. Send him in.”

“Of course, sir.”

And a moment later, the lab door slides open.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting back to my usual working pace, and I gotta say it feels really freaking good :D think it should be two more chapters, maybe a short epilogue, and then we'll be done!  
> Hope you enjoy, please tell me what you think!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

The kid doesn’t look too good. He’s still pale (though, considering his dad was anything but tanned, maybe that has more to do with genetics than with his actual condition), clad in a pair of sweatpants that’s way too long (looks like he’d stumble over those with every single step), and a long sleeved shirt that’s hanging off his slender frame. His light blond hair is messy, a few strands hanging into his wide, shining golden-brown eyes. He’s got a one of the sleeves bunched up in his fist and is chewing on it, which makes him look even younger than everything else. Also, he’s looking at Tony, who’s looking right back, wondering why the fuck he didn’t tell JARVIS to send the boy back to his room. Shit, he wasn’t prepared- For any of this! That was the reason he went back down to his lab, because this is where he’s safe and _qualified_. But it’s too late now. Kid’s here, and Tony can’t just- Well, maybe he could, but he’s got a feeling it wouldn’t do either of them any good in the long run. Even though it might safe the boy from being fucking ruined. And so, he takes a deep breath and force a smile onto his face.

“Hey, kid.”

Fenrir flinches at that, biting down on the soft fabric of his shirt as he stumbles a few steps back. Tony cringes, but thankfully the kid doesn’t panic. After a couple of minutes, he straightens back up and nods slowly.

“JARVIS told me you wanted to see me? Any reason you came down?”

The kid nods hesitantly, then shakes his head, still chewing on the sleeve, sucking on the soggy fabric. His golden-brown eyes are darting through the room, but they always find their way back to Tony, who isn’t sure what exactly that “answer” is supposed to mean.

“So, still not talking, then? That’s fine, of course!”, he quickly adds when the kid shudders and lowers his eyes to the ground as though he’s ashamed, “no need to talk at all! Believe me, I talk more than enough for both of us! Uh, though you kinda knew that already, considering... Considering.”

Better not finish that statement. Instead, he just shrugs his shoulders and watches the kid watch him. Confused, and kinda scared, too. Which has never happened in Tony’s presence. Or at least it’s been a long time. He’s pretty sure that towards the end, the wolf equated his presence with being safe, and that- Well, that’s over now. And they’re back to square one. For a few moments, the lab is filled with a different kind of silence, and Tony’s not sure if that’s better or worse. At the very least it’s different. He’ll take that over what’s been keeping him awake and weary for a week and a half by now.

“You... You wanna sit down?”, Tony finally asks when it doesn’t look like the kid will supply any sort of explanation or anything, really, “you look kinda- Tired, I guess.”

That’s one way to put it. Kid looks dead on his feet, and the sight of him is enough to make Tony’s heart clench. Shit, did JARVIS make sure to feed the kid? Because it sure as fuck doesn’t look like he did! Still, Tony knows better than to ask right now, watching as the kid nods slowly and then gestures towards one corner of the lab- The corner where he used to sleep as a wolf, where his blankets are still lying on the ground, because Tony still hasn’t gotten around to throwing those out.

“Sure, you- You just go ahead. I, uh, I still got some stuff I need to take care of. Really urgent, you know? You okay with sitting tight for a while until I’m done?”

Fenrir blinks a few times, then he lets out a weird sound- Almost sounds like a growl, though of course the kid’s human body isn’t meant to produce that kind of noise, so it ends up rather... Weird. Still, it’s pretty safe to say that the kid’s definitely not happy with something he just said.

“Uh, bless you? Are you okay?”

Again, there’s that weird growling sound, and Tony is just about to ask what this is about, when the kid just- Crumbles. There really is no other word for it: His shoulders slump, his head falls forward, and he seems to fold into himself. Tony didn’t think it was somehow possible for the boy to look even smaller, but Fenrir accomplishes it in a matter of seconds. And again, he wants to ask, but the kid is already moving again, trudging through the lab, towards his corner of the room. Tony watches him go, once again feeling as though he’s _missing out on some vital information_ , but there’s no way for him to ask. Not the kid, and certainly not JARVIS. So, he just keeps quiet and watches the boy make his way to the blankets, where he sits down slowly and gingerly, before lying down and curling into a small ball. It’s the exact some position Tony and Bruce found him just a day or two ago, and it’s just as sad as it was back then.

“You need any--”

Fenrir shakes his head before he can finish the question, reaching over to grab a blanket and wrap it around himself. Once he’s apparently as comfortable as he’s going to get on the floor, he curls even tighter into himself and buries his face in the soft blankets. He’s apparently done with that conversation, and that’s just as well. It’s not like Tony had anything else to add, since he’s still trying to figure out where exactly he went wrong in the first place. Doesn’t look like Fenrir would be willing to supply any more hints, and he still doesn’t want to ask JARVIS. Instead, he lets out a small sigh and turns back to his workstation. Not like he was actually working on any important or even urgent projects, but he can definitely keep busy until the kid falls asleep. Then, he’ll see what he does then. Maybe he’ll sneak out and hide back in his own room. Or he’ll stay here and creepily watch the boy sleep. Or he’ll just--

Shaking his head again, he does his best to force his mind into the zen-kind of place he usually falls into the moment he gets his hands onto a new problem/project. That doesn’t happen, but he does manage to drown out the fear and uncertainty screaming in his mind just enough to concentrate on what’s right in front of him. That’s more than he was able to do the last couple of days. He’s just about to tell JARVIS to turn on the music again, he realizes that something’s- Different. The silence that now fills the lab is completely different to what he’s come to know and loathe. Even though he can’t say what it is, something’s shifted again. Something’s... Better, in a way. And so, he swallows down his request and simple gets back to work, listening to Fenrir’s quiet breathing in the background. It’s not the same as it was, definitely not. But it’s better than what he’s been dreading ever since he told the kid he was moving upstairs.

Work- _Works_. For the first time in days, actually, and that’s kind of awesome. If circumstances were different, Tony would be over the moon, because he’s nothing without his work. Lose his work, lose himself, it’s always been that way. He settles on working on some of the suit’s wiring (can’t have it failing ever again, no matter how cold it gets), and it’s mostly busy work, which is fine for now.

Did he really miss the company? Can it really be that simple? It seems to be that way, although Tony’s not all that satisfied with that answer. It can’t be that easy, and it certainly can’t be that way. Tony’s never been a people person, after all, and he prefers to be alone for most of his time. And that was fine. As long as he had his work, that is, and why would he ever- Could it really be the kid? Because he never craved any sort of company, until he got a giant wolf dropped into his lap for whatever weird reason, and he came to appreciate not being alone in a completely different way. Sato was different from people- Of fucking course he was, being a fucking wolf and all that! But he was just _there_ , and he didn’t ask for anything Tony wasn’t ready to provide with ease, and more than happy to give at that. And whenever Tony was done cuddling his wolf, the giant animal simply laid down, let out a content huff and then watched the engineer work until he fell asleep. That was- Something completely new and different. And somehow, it was exactly what he needed. And then he fucking lost it, just like that.

He does turn around about an hour into the session, if only to make sure the kid- Hasn’t vanished, or something stupid like that. But Fenrir’s still there, curled up under one of the blankets. And he’s staring straight back at Tony, as if he hasn’t even looked anywhere else ever since he laid down. It’s an unnerving thought, to say the least, and it makes Tony shudder as he turns back around, leaning over his workstation and not thinking about that notion. Instead, he focuses on metal and wire and other things he _gets_ , and that works out pretty well. He ends up losing track of time again, but in a good way this time, and he hums a couple of songs, which hasn’t happened in a while as well. And even though the lab is quiet, it’s _different_ , and even though he isn’t sure it’s simply because the kid’s here and the closest thing he’ll ever have to the wolf he came to love some time ago, he’s willing to just take it for tonight. And every single time he turns back to look at the kid, Fenrir’s looking right back at him. As if he doesn’t look away for even a single second. Yeah... Not concerning at all.

_Sir, Fenrir has fallen asleep. Would you like for me to--_

“Nah, we’re- We’re good for now. I think. Can’t be sure about anything, of course, but I think... I think we’re okay.”

Kid still needs all the rest he can get. Also, Tony still has no idea what to _do_ with... Well, children, but this child in particular, and so he’s more than happy to let him sleep for as long as he pleases. It’s been working out just fine, after all. He’s actually been getting some shit done, and there’s still no heaviness pressing against his chest. All good signs, really, so why would should they change anything? Nah, it’s better to let the boy sleep, and for Tony to keep his big mouth shut. Still, he does turn around and cast a look at the kid, just- Just to make sure. But nothing has changed. Fenrir’s curled up in a small ball, apparently sleeping peacefully, blanket wrapped tightly around his small frame. Looks all of five years old, with that sleeve still partly in his mouth, occasionally nibbling on it.

“You sure he’s fourteen years old? Or even close to that?”, Tony asks lowly as he raises his arms over his head and stretches, “looks a lot longer if you ask me.”

_I have calculated Fenrir’s age as precisely as it was possible, considering the limited amount of date at my disposal. According to those calculations, his age would lie somewhere between twelve and fourteen, although it is very unlikely for him to be any younger._

“Kid doesn’t look like fourteen.”

Then again, how would Tony know? It’s not like he has any idea how an actual teenager is supposed to look. There’s just that feeling that that Fenrir is somehow supposed to look just a little older, a little... More mature, maybe? Anything, really, just not... Quite so young. So vulnerable. Because that’s what it is: The kid looks like a stiff breeze could knock him over. Maybe it- Maybe all of this would be easier if the kid was just a bit older. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so fucking brutal imagining him going through everything Tony now knows for a fact he’s been through. But a kid... Nothing more than a fucking kid. And that’s the worst about it all.

“Has he said anything by now? To you, I mean. Obviously he hasn’t talked with me.”

_Fenrir still has not said so much as a single word for the entirety of his stay, sir._

“Loki said he can talk, though. So, why isn’t he talking?”, Tony murmurs as he cocks his head to the side, still looking at the kid, “think there’s something wrong with him, after all?”

His mind keeps circling back to that- That terrible possibility. That there’s something wrong with the kid, something that could be _fixed_ , or maybe not, which is even more terrifying. Of course, Tony trusts JARVIS (be programmed him, after all, and he happens to be the very best there fucking is), but a small, niggling worry remains at the back of his mind. Is that normal?

_I cannot find any sickness or--_

“Yeah, you already told me as much. But why isn’t he talking, then, huh?”

_I suspect his muteness is caused mostly by stress, as well as a lack of practice. As his father mentioned, Fenrir has spent a very long time in the form of a giant wolf, in which he was not able to talk as a human would._

“Okay. That makes sense, I guess. But how do we get him to talk?”

_I am not sure it is a matter of forcing him to--_

“No, of course not. But he’s gotta start talking at some point, right? I mean, this kind of conversation is gonna get real old real fast, if he’s only able to shake or nod his head. Won’t be able to express himself all that well.”

The fact that Tony Stark is talking about being able to express yourself well is kind of... Astonishing. Especially in this context. Because he doesn’t just want to ask Fenrir about some of the things he’s been meaning to ask Loki (but didn’t have any time left to do so), but also about... The more complicated stuff. How he feels, for example. That’d be one of his first questions, actually. And things would already get kinda difficult right there. But yeah, he wants to ask the kid. Which seems to be a miracle in itself, and he takes a moment to marvel at that fact. Then, he blinks and focuses his attention back on the small boy.

_I believe it would be best to give Fenrir as much time as he needs, while simultaneously encouraging him to try and start talking whenever the opportunity arises. Forcing him, however, might very well stress him even more and result in another retreat._

“So, slow and steady, I take it? Not really my style, to be honest.”

_Would you be willing to try, for Fenrir’s sake, then?_

“You really have to ask that, dear?”

_Considering that this is the first time you talked about your future interactions and your intentions of talking to him, I must answer in the affirmative, sir._

Which, okay. Ouch. Big, big ouch. Tony actually cringes, but he doesn’t protest, because he knows JARVIS’s skepticism is justified in that regard. He fucked up. He fucked up _royally_ , and now he’s paying the price, in the form of his own AI no longer trusting him. That sucks. But he’s trying now, at least. That’s gotta count for something... Right?

“Well, I’m gonna try, alright? Can’t promise I’ll immediately be fucking perfect on this whole par- _Guardian business_ , but I’m sure as hell gonna try. Think you can live with that?”

_It does not matter wether I deem your actions acceptable or not. It only matters wether or not your future actions result in more pain and suffering for Fenrir._

JARVIS sounds... Different. Tony isn’t sure he has ever heard him talk like that, and for an AI, he sounds pretty emotional. And maybe he has talked like that before, about Tony, because it sounds- It sounds really damn emotional. Protective, and downright angry at Tony, which is also rather unusual. Especially when he’s been there for all of the man’s worst mistakes and biggest miscalculations, a witness to every single time he has fucked up from his late teens to this very moment. Strange indeed.

“Tell me something, J... Are you getting attached to the kid?”

There’s that telling silence again. It takes a lot to render JARVIS speechless, or rather make him this hesitant about an answer. There must be something interesting, then, or else the AI would just tell him. But when there’s still nothing after almost ten full seconds, Tony can’t help but smile ever so slightly.

“That’s alright, buddy. It’s understandable, after all. We knew him as a wolf, and now that he’s a kid... I mean, I get why you’d feel that way. And I get why you’re pissed, too. You’re more than justified.”

_I apologize for my--_

“Nah, you’ll do no such thing. Like I said: Totally justified. I was behaving like an idiot, and you just- You’re just looking out for the kid. And I’m glad he’s got you as well. You’re a great ally to have, after all. Kid needs every ally he can get. So yeah... I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

_I am glad to hear that, sir. And I promise I will do everything within my powers to protect Fenrir and aid his recovery._

And that... That just warms Tony’s heart, warms him all the way down to his toes, actually. Because he knows that JARVIS means every single word he’s just said, and that lifts some of that unbearable weight off of Tony’s shoulder. Maybe he’s not as alone in this as he thought he was.

Is that really what he was so afraid of? Looking back, Tony feels kind of stupid, because if this is it, he was a coward for absolutely no reason. So the kid likes to sleep in the lab. Big deal! It’s actually logical, considering that he spent most of his time on earth either here, or back in the lab in Malibu. And now that everything else has changed, maybe he’s just looking for something familiar. The lab he knows, for example. And a person he knows, too. Which would be Tony, who happens to spend the vast majority of his time in said lab. So yeah, maybe there’s a good reason he’s gravitating towards that place.

Tony decides to just leave it at that for now. He’s actually kind of busy now, busy replacing some more wiring and then fix a few minor coding issues, all the while humming _Diary Of A Madman_ as he keeps an ear out for the small, snuffling breaths the kid lets out every other minute, and thinks about Ozzie, and what a fucking genius he is. His hands keep moving, and his mind is moving as well, though only through safe, well-known dimensions, and he’s- He’s okay. For now, he’s okay. They both are, it seems. And maybe that’s a starting point, after all. Maybe that’s something they can work on, step by step. It might be something small, but Tony’s pretty sure that if they--

And that’s when something shifts. It’s not all that noticeable, and he might’ve missed it if he wasn’t so accustomed to it by now. But yeah, there’s a shift. Something changes, something disturbs the calm, quiet atmosphere in the lab, and Tony’s hands freeze. Frowning, he tries to listen for that _something_ , because if even JARVIS hasn’t said anything, it’s entirely possible there actually- But wait. There it is. Or rather, there isn’t. That snuffling has stopped, and there are no more small huffs coming from a certain corner of the room. Kid’s gone quiet, and for some reason Tony finds that... Worrying. And that’s why he barely hesitates before dropping the tools he’s currently working with and turning around. Kid’s still there, which is a relief, since he’s apparently still worried the boy would vanish at some point if he didn’t check up on him every couple of minutes. But he’s no longer sleeping peacefully. Instead, his face is scrunched up, hands balled tightly into fists, and he has curled into an impossibly small ball, shaking ever so slightly. Doesn’t look too good. Actually, it looks like he’s--

_Sir, it appears that Fenrir is having a--_

“Nightmare”, Tony finishes quietly, cursing under his breath.

Yeah, that’s definitely what it is. A fucking nightmare. Just what they needed... Taking a deep breath, Tony pushes himself to his feet and starts to slowly walk towards the pitiful creature. As he gets closer, he can actually see the kid shaking and trembling ever so slightly, whimpering in a way that makes his heart clench painfully.

“Oh, kid”, he mutters as he walks just a little closer, until he’s no more than ten feet away.

Knowing what he does about nightmares through his own experiences, he feels for pretty much everyone who suffers them o a regular basis. Pretty sure the kid does, at this point. And that fucking sucks.

“That has happened before.”

It’s not a question, because he already knows. JARVIS told him, after all, but he doesn’t know what else to say, and staying quiet doesn’t feel right, either. He’s once again lost, and that’s- Not what he was expecting. Simply because he does know a shit ton about nightmare. His own, at least. About other people’s... Not so much, it seems.

_It has happened almost every night Fenrir was able to stay asleep long enough to enter the REM phase._

“... Fuck. And, uh- Well, fuck.”

What else is he supposed to say? The boy is still shaking, clenching his fists as he curls into himself, and Tony’s none-existent heart fucking breaks right then and there. Yeah, those can be fucking brutal- Especially on a kid. And Tony- He can’t just let that happen, right?

“So, uh, what- What are we gonna do about it?”

Because Tony really has no fucking idea. He doesn’t know _shit_ about how to get someone out from a nightmare, especially in a way that wouldn’t be counter-productive. He only knows how to suffer through them and completely fail on applying any sort of healthy coping mechanisms. But that’s probably not what they need right now.

_During the last couple of nights this has happened, I was rather successful in waking Fenrir up with the use of my voice, and calm him by talking to him and explaining the situation. Perhaps you should attempt a similar approach._

That sounds easy enough. Definitely better than doing nothing at all. So, Tony tries. He clears his throat, straightens his shoulders- And starts talking.

“Hey. Hey, kid. You hear me? It’s- It’s Tony. And you’re safe, okay? You’re here, in the Tower. In the lab, actually. And you’re completely safe. No one here trying to hurt you. Everything’s- Well, not okay, but pretty close to acceptable? I think? I’m not sure, though, since we both- Okay, getting kinda sidetracked, here, but it’s still true! Nothing bad is happening! It’s only a nightmare, nothing can happen to you!”

No reaction. At least not the one Tony was hoping for. The kid lets out a small whine, but he doesn’t wake up and immediately realize that Tony’s right and there’s no reason to panic at all. That would be great, but it’s simply not what happens. Nothing happens, instead.

“And now?”, Tony mutters as he drags a hand through his messy hair.

_Maybe you could try physical contact next. Fenrir appears to be a rather tactile child, especially with the people he knows and trusts._

“You sure that’s such a good idea?”

Tony knows how he reacted the first few times Rhodey woke him up that way. His best friend got a couple of bruises for his efforts, and Tony felt guilty for the two weeks it took for that shiner to fade. So, he’s a little weary of just walking over and _touching_ the kid without any warning.

_The alternative course of action would to simply wait for Fenrir to wake up on his own._

And okay, that sounds even worse. Tony might be a coward, and yeah, he’s anything but comfortable with this entire situation, but he’s not the kind of guy to just sit around and let someone he knows and cares for (because there’s no way he can deny it at this point) suffer, when there’s even the smallest chance he can make things better.

“Alright, then... Then we’ll try that.”

With that, he straightens his shoulders again and walks those last couple of feet to the kid’s side, crouching down. For a moment, he thinks about how if this was still his wolf, he wouldn’t have any problems approaching him. Hell, if this was still his wolf, he wouldn’t even have asked JARVIS for advice, because he’d instinctively knows how to deal with the distressed animal. Strange, isn’t it? He was fine dealing with a giant wolf, but give him a harmless, defenseless child, and he’s completely useless.

“Hey... Hey, kid”, he murmurs, hoping against hope that it’ll work now and safe from having to reach out and actually touch the damn kid, “you’re safe, you here me? Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Nope, no reaction. Only another whimper, this one louder and somehow even more heartbreaking as the boy’s face crunches up once again, his entire body trembling. This clearly isn’t working, and Tony wishes he had some other option- But he doesn’t, and the kid’s clearly suffering, and so he braces himself and slowly reaches out, gently resting his hand on Fenrir’s shaking shoulder.

That gets him an instant reaction. A rather violent one, too. The kid jerks under his touch, once, and a moment later he’s already gone. Tony barely has time to blink before the hand hits him in the face, and he can’t bite the groan of pain, because fucking hell, that hurts! Fool that he is, he tries to reach out a second time, and this time the kid lets out a scream and _pushes_.

“Motherfucker!”, Tony curses as he falls backwards, landing on his ass, “hey, fucking take it easy--”

This time he gets kicked against the chest when he tries to move forward, and the kid screams again, scrambling backwards. His golden-brown eyes are wide awake, but he seems to be anything but awake as he stumbles and crawls and tries his best to get the hell away from Tony. And that somehow hurts worse than the punches and kicks he’s received so far. A few seconds later, Fenrir’s back hits the lab’s wall, and he twists around, unseeing eyes searching for an escape route, panic shining bright in them. Tony knows that kind of gaze, knows it intimately at this point, and that’s what makes it so much worse. Because he not only _sees_ the kid’s pain and despair, but he also feels an echo inside of himself. And just like that, his own heart starts to beat faster and faster, and his lungs start to shrink, and there’s that dangerous static noise in his head...

“Kid- Kid, you gotta wake up, alright?”, he murmurs, straightening back up before, “because this is getting just a little exhausting, and I’m not in the mood for kickboxing practice--”

That doesn’t have the desired effect, either. Fenrir’s eyes keep darting through the room, his breath running wild as he curls into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. Kid’s terrified, but Tony can’t really help him in that state, so he decides to try his luck again, slowly inching forward- Until the boy screams again, and starts kicking wildly. Tony’s not fast enough to avoid the first three, and by the fourth he’s falling flat on his back, with the air knocked out of his chest. It’s- Not good, to day the least. Makes him dizzy and for a moment he tastes blood, because Fenrir managed to hit his lip and split it, and that- That brings back so many fucking--

“Fucking hell”,he mutters, “for fuck’s sake, don’t- Don’t fucking--”

But it’s already a little late for that. He can feel himself slipping, because there’s the stress, the fear, the adrenaline, and the blood- The blood certainly isn’t helping. And listening to the kid cry and whimper in that scared, desperate way only amplifies the terror he feels. Hearing people cry and scream- He’s learned to deal with it, sure, but right here and now it feels like needles stabbing through his brain. Taking a shuddering breath, he slowly sits back up, all the while trying to get his breathing back under control, and failing. It only gets worse with every passing second, and the kid’s started to hyperventilate as well, wide eyes staring at Tony with equal measures of fear, desperation and confusion. And Tony knows, he _knows_ that he’s supposed to smile and joke around and try his best to calm the kid down, because that’s his fucking _job_ now- But he can’t. He can’t, because his heart is stumbling in his chest, and he’s getting from the lack of oxygen, and his thoughts are spinning inside of his head until it’s all just garbled noise drowning out any reasonable thought he might have managed to formulate otherwise.

“Kid...”, he tries again, wheezing already as he reaches out with one shaking hand, but Fenrir only shies back, letting out a small whimper and he shakes his head, “kid, you gotta come back, you gotta- You gotta--”

But words fail him, because he lacks the air to actually talk. Gasping, he pulls back his own shaking hand, because even though there seems to be a bit more awareness in the boy’s wide, shining eyes, it’s now Tony’s turn to completely lose his shit. Even though he can clearly see what’s happening, he’s already too late to stop it. Panic attack, full blown panic attack, and he simply missed the early signs. And now he’s paying the price. While the kid’s sitting in front of him, staring right back at him, and even if he wasn’t some sort of half human/half wolf, he’d still be able to see what’s going on. There’s no fucking way Tony can Fenrir right about now. So the kid knows, and sees once again first hand what a fucking wreck the man truly is. As if there was any more proof needed.

He can’t let that happen. He can’t let the kid see him fall apart so completely, because the boy doesn’t need to know any more about his issues and trauma and failure. Kids don’t need that kid of shit, especially when they’re struggling with the same thing and only looking for someone to comfort them. And Tony- Tony won’t hurt the boy anymore than he already had. Not when he’s still able to just get up and get the fuck out of here. So that’s what he’ll do.

“I- I’m gonna go”, is what he finally manages to get out, “just- just- just gonna step outside for a moment, okay? G-Gonna be right- Right back, so- so- so just- Just stay here. Gonna be back, just- Just need a moment, so- So just stay here for now, okay? Okay, alright, I’m- I’m gonna--”

He doesn’t bother finishing that sentence, instead getting up onto his shaking legs and- Running away. He doesn’t quite run, actually, but it’s a close thing. Breathing gets harder by the second, and there are black spots dancing in front of his eyes, which is _bad_ , but can’t be helped right now.

“Elevator!”, he gasps, and JARVIS doesn’t ask any questions.

Tony stumbles out of the lab and into the elevator, his knees almost giving in the moment the doors slide shut. Still gasping desperately, he sinks down to the ground, head hanging low as he struggles to stay conscious, though he suspects it’ a losing battle.

_Sir, you are showing signs of a--_

“Yeah, I FUCKING KNOW!”, he growls, shuddering and almost gagging with the nausea that’s rolling in his stomach.

And he’s trying- He’s trying to get out of it, okay? Trying to focus on what he can see, smell, hear, feel, all that kind of shit, but it’s not working. His brain is too fired up, too scrambled to focus for even a single second on anything but the rising panic, and he can feel himself be pulled under. There’s JARVIS’s voice, and Tony has a feeling he’s trying to help him somehow, but it’s lost in that maelstrom of fear and desperation that’s washing over him, drenching him, fucking drowning him in a matter of seconds... And just a moment later, he is already gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, I like this pace much better :D slight change of plans, though: Only this chapter and a short epilogue, and this installment will be finished! As always, I hope you enjoy and I'd love to know what you think!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie

Tony comes to when the elevator grinds to a halt. Everything is still hazy, there are black spots dancing in his eyes, and he knows that if he were to try and actually get up, he’d end up falling back onto his ass in a matter of seconds. His entire body is trembling as though it’s about to crumble and fall apart, and he still feels ready to puke. All in all, he’s feeling like shit, which is only made worse by the fact that this fear- This disgusting, all encompassing fear is still running wild in his mind, and he just... He wants to crawl out of his skin, wants to tear his own flesh apart so that he can escape and go somewhere else, somewhere less awful- Anywhere but here.

“JARVIS”, he gasps out as his hands clench into fists, “J, what the fuck--”

_Sir, you are experiencing a rather severe panic attack. I would advice you to--_

“Not working!”, Tony pants, opening his mouth to pull in some much needed air, but of fucking course nothing happens, “not- Nothing’s working, J, I need- I need--”

He can’t say, sadly, because his mind is scrambled, and his thoughts are running wild. Usually- Well, he’s found a few ways to deal with these attacks. Alcohol, which he doesn’t have at hand. Scalding hot or ice cold shower, also not possible right now. Rhodey... Rhodey’s not here, either. And Tony was stupid enough to not call his friend beforehand, because he was too scared of the lecture he’d probably receive should he do so, and now- Now it’s too fucking late for anything. He’s here, he’s panicking, and he’s all alone.

_Sir, I could try to contact--_

“NO! Don’t- Don’t you fucking DARE!”, Tony hisses, barely suppressing the urge to start clawing at his own skin.

_Sir, it might be better to actually call--_

“NO! For fuck’s sake- DON’T!”

Because he can’t take it right now. He can’t sit here and beg Rhodey for his help, only to then tell him what he’s done- What he’s still doing. He doesn’t _want_ to hear his best friend’s disappointment when he inevitably finds out the truth. Because after everything he’s been through, he’s still a fucking coward. And now he’s paying for that, too.

“I’m fine. Just- Fucking _fine_. Need- Need a minute. Or two. Then I’ll be just _fine_ ”, he hisses, even though he knows it’s a really, really bad lie.

He won’t be fine. He never is. He’s a fucking wreck, and now he turns to the side, just in time to start gagging again, and then throws up, barely missing his own pants, which would’ve been just the icing on the cake. The taste of bile fills his mouth, and he gags again, cringing as his body cramps and he’s forced onto all fours. There’s that chinese take-out making a return, and the water he managed to drink, and he feels so fucking awful... But of course, things only get worse, because a moment later the elevator doors slide open. Tony immediately knows he’s not alone, mostly due to the surprised gasps that greet him, and he’s almost tempted to just- Give in. To let the panic take him, to pass out and just _not deal with this_.

“Tony? What’s going? Do you need- Help?”

And of course, it has to be the damned Capsicle. Maybe he would’ve been able to deal with Bruce, but not Steven Rogers. No way in hell. Yet here he is, on his hands and knees, shaking from head to toe after having just emptied his entire stomach, as pathetic and helpless as he’ll ever be, and that fucking idiot dares to ask him if he needs _fucking help_.

“No!”, he gaps when the retching stops for a moment, “no, I don’t need your fucking--”

He doesn’t get any farther, because his stomach decides that’s the perfect moment to puke some more, even though there’s nothing but bile left by now. Still, it forces Tony to shut up and focus on more pressing matters than telling Captain America where exactly to put his--

“Should we call Bruce?”

“Nah, think we should get him out of here first.”

And Barton’s here, too. Great, it’s just a grand party happening in his hallway! Just in time to witness his downfall, too! Isn’t he one lucky bastard? Before he gets any chance to protest, two strong arms grasps his and haul him to his feet. The motion makes him dizzy again, and he blacks out for just a moment. Coming back with a groan, he’s already moving, though he does very little to contribute. His feet are mostly dragging on the floor, but thankfully his two boy scouts make sure to keep him upright as they move him through the hallway.

“Just like college days...”, he slurs, though neither of them responds to it, which is probably for the better, anyway.

It’s not like it was back then, anyway. For once, Tony was drunk out of his mind, and that certainly was a much more pleasant feeling than... Whatever this is supposed to be. He wasn’t shaking as much as he’s now, his heart wasn’t pounding against his ribs and he didn’t feel like his lungs were being crushed under the weight of all his failures. Definitely better. Especially since he was usually able to fall into bed and pass right the fuck out, which he somehow doubts will happen today. Somehow he knows that he’ll spend the next few hours trying and failing to get back to normality.

“Sofa should be fine. Then we’ll see about calling Bruce”, he hears Barton say to his left, and Rogers nods at that.

Tony would like to tell them to back the fuck up because he’s an actual adult who’s more than capable of dealing with his own trauma, thank you very much! But his teeth have started to rattle and his legs are still not cooperating, and he’s still fighting for very single breath, so he doubts he’d be able to make a convincing argument. As it is, he can only allow them to drag him to the sofa, and then proceed to sit him down surprisingly gentle. Rogers keeps a hand on his shoulder, and Tony wishes he wouldn’t. The contact is making his skin itch and crawl. Tony doesn’t like- He doesn’t want to be touched right now, but the only way he can convey that is by shrugging the hand off as he lets his head fall back against the sofa’s backrest. His breathing sounds harsh and labored to his own ears, and even though he tries his fucking best, he’s still not getting enough air into his lungs, not by a long shot. His hands are clenching on top of his knees, and he’s all too aware of the two sets of eyes watching him intently. Fuck, he wants them to be just _gone_!

“Tony? Can you tell us what’s wrong?”

There’s Steve again. Tony manages to turn his head and look at the Captain, who’s way too close for comfort and not showing any signs of backing up any time soon, but there’s no way he can actually get out an answer. He settles for glaring at the man, and thankfully Barton seems to get the message.

“Guess he’s having a panic attack. He’s hyperventilating.”

“Do we need to call Bruce?”

“There’s nothing physically wrong with him. But he needs to get his breathing under control, or he’s gonna pass out.”

“Okay. Is there any way we can help him... Calm down, I guess?”

Tony fucking hates being talked about like he’s not sitting right in front of them. Still, he’s too busy gasping for each breath to actually tell them as much, so all he can do is, once again, glare with everything he’s got.

“Depends on the person. You wanna tell us if there’s anything we can do for you?”, Barton asks, turning back to Tony, raising an eyebrow, “‘cause you look about ready to explode, to be honest. Anything we can do to prevent that?”

God, if Tony could get any air into his lungs, he’d tell them exactly what they can do to hep him feel better! As it is, he’s getting closer to passing out once again. His heart is beating out of his chest, and at this point he’s actually afraid of suffering from a minor heart attack, because this- It has happened before, but it usually doesn’t last as long, and he usually has _some way of dealing with it_ , but he’s never been so stranded, and not for such a long time, either, and it’s starting to fucking scare him, too. Doesn’t feel like a body is made to endure shit like that for a prolong period of time...

“JARVIS? Could you alert Bruce and tell him we need his help?”

“You think that’s really necessary, Cap?”

“I have no idea how to deal with something like this, and you haven’t made any other suggestions. I’d say at this point, Bruce is our best bet. So, please alert him for us, JARVIS.”

_Certainly, Captain. I shall immediately--_

But that’s when Tony has had enough. Not sure where the energy, where the fucking _air_ comes from, but he somehow manages to push himself first into a more upright position, and then back onto his feet. It’s a shaky stand at best, but he’s doing it on his own, and that’s what counts. There’s sweat clinging to his skin, his shirt is plastered to his back by now, and he knows he must look like death warmed over. But he won’t just sit there while they call Bruce, because he doesn’t need medical help, for fuck’s sake! He’s fucking _fine_!

“Tony, are you--”

“If you wanna if I’m okay”, he pants as he slowly turns around, glaring at Rogers with all the anger he feels for someone entirely different, “he can go fuck yourself! ‘M not okay. So don’t you dare fucking ask me!”

“Yeah, that was kinda obvious from the way you’re almost passing out.”

“Shove it, Barton. No one asked you!”, Tony hisses, because he knows that already.

“So, you’re just fine now? Because you still look like absolute shit--”

“I’m just fucking _perfect_ , thanks for not asking”, is the answer he gets as Tony finally dares to take a step forward, shoving past both of them roughly.

Rogers makes an attempt to grab onto his wrist, but Tony wrenches himself free, growling at the other man.

“You fucking touch me again and there’ll be broken bones. Understood?”

For a moment, it looks like Rogers is actually about to protest and demand that Tony allows them to- Whatever. _Take care of him_ , maybe. The thought alone makes him shudder. Thankfully, he thinks better of it and pulls his hands back, lifting them in a sign of peace.

“Of course. Sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“Whatever. Just- Keep your distance, you hear me? And we won’t have a problem. ‘M gonna leave now. Time to get some shut-eye.”

It’s a herculean effort to even make it through the living room, with his lungs still being crushed and his heart stumbling and his hands shaking and sweating and trembling. But he does make it, and he doesn’t pass out, which is a victory in his book. Just as he’s about to reach the hallway, Rogers has to open his big mouth once again.

“Just- If you need something, anything... You can tell us. You know that, right? We’re here, and we could try and--”

“Yeah, I don’t think so”, Tony mutters as he shakes his head ever so slightly and tries to keep himself upright, “don’t really need you guys. Don’t really need anyone. Never have, never will. So safe your pity for someone who actually wants it.”

He actually makes it to his suite. He also makes it into the bathroom, where he wastes no time stripping out of his sweaty clothes and stepping into the already running shower. The cold water feels like a punch to the face, and his muscles cramp up yet again, but he still forces himself to move under the icy spray. At least now he has a reason to shake and tremble. But that doesn’t alleviate any of the anger and desperation still coursing through his mind.

“MOTHERFUCKING FUCK!”

Punching the wall feels good. It’s another sensation that pulls him up, back towards the surface, and that’s what he needs. As the impact travels up his arm, over his shoulder, as he feels his knuckles sting and ache right afterwards- Yeah, it brings him back. Or at least keeps him from slipping back under. Which is just as good. Biting his lip until it starts bleeding again he forces himself to take a step back and... Breathe. Because it works now. Not entirely, and he’s still gasping and fighting for every breath he takes, but he’s no longer quite as close to passing out as he was back on the sofa. It’s progress.

_Sir, would you like for me--_

“I would like for _everyone_ to just shut the fuck up!”, Tony growls as he clenches his fists again, until his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands, “I don’t need your fucking commentary, alright? So shut up, and leave me the fuck alone!”

Usually, JARVIS’s voice is a blessing during his darkest times. Usually. But not this time around. Right now, it makes everything feel that much worse. He’s so sick of having people witness his collapse, be it the well-meaning Captain, that idiot Barton, or even his own AI. Right now, it doesn’t make a difference. He feels as though he’s being observed, judged for every single move he makes, and pitied- That’s what he probably hates the most. The pity. Because he doesn’t need it, doesn’t want it, so they can fucking keep it! Shaking his head a couple times, he tries to focus on his breathing again, taking slow, measured breath, counting to four each time he breathes in, holding it for seven seconds, and then breathing out for eight. Yeah, he might be an idiot, but he’s smart, too. He got something a few tools to manage that shit-show, right when it all started. He _knows_ how to deal with a panic attack- Technically. In reality, it works in about half of the cases, because he often ends up missing or straight up ignoring the first warning signs, and when it gets too bad to ignore, it’s already too late. Which is a shame, really.

Right now, though, he takes a few more breaths, and feels himself calm down, if only a little bit. More than enough for now, anyway, as he allows his eyes to slip shut and his shoulders to slump. Some of the tension drains from his frame, and his muscles start to gently pulse with a slow, dull ache. Taking a few more deep breaths, Tony slowly leans forward, until his forehead comes to rest against the cool tiles.

“I fucked up”, he whispers as he slowly shakes his head from one side to the other, “I fucked up _so much_ , and now I’m a fucking _wreck_.”

JARVIS is smart enough not to respond, which is a blessing right now. Tony knows all too well that there’s very little that could be said right now, and since the AI is not supposed to lie to him, there’s even less he could say to somehow make the man better. Again, Tony’s left with that heavy, uncomfortable sort of silence, and he likes it even less now than he did back down in the lab.

But it’s the truth. Tony fucked up, worse than he thought possible. The kid... The damn _kid_ needed his help. And Tony was right there, and he was still not able to do- Something. Anything but what he actually did- Which was breaking down because he tried to comfort a child after a nightmare, and he couldn’t stomach even that. Yeah, he really fucked up. And now the kid--

“... Update, J.”

_Fenrir is still in the lab, sir. He is currently crying and has not responded to any of my attempts of comfort or calming._

“... Fuck.”

_I will continue to try and calm him down. Do you think you would be able to--_

“No- No, and I don’t think that’d be such a good idea, anyway. Kid needs help. Not another nutcase ruining him some more. Don’t think I’m the person he needs right now. So let’s just- Let’s just leave him alone for a little while.”

_Sir, I truly believe that Fenrir would prefer it if you--_

“No way in hell, J. Kid saw me lose it completely not even an hour ago, we don’t need a repeat of that. I’d just make everything worse at that point. Don’t think that’s necessary.”

No need for any more trauma. Boy’s been through more than enough already. And Tony- Tony is only adding oil to the flame at this point. He’s a mess, and then it’s... Acceptable when it’s about other adults, or his best friend who for some reason decided to stick around and watch him burn, but when it comes to a child in his care, who’s depending on him for safety and comfort? Then it’s fucking out of question, no two ways about it! And if one of Fenrir’s nightmares was enough to trigger Tony’s own trauma, who’s to say it won’t be the same the other way around? What if the next time Tony has a nightmare, a panic attack, literally _anything_ \- What if it triggers the kid in return? What are they gonna do then? Tony can’t go around triggering a _child_ , he just can’t! Even if that kid is depending on him, even if he’s the one who swore to protect the boy and care for him- What if he ends up doing more harm than good? What if he ends up hurting Fenrir more than he could ever help him? And even if he doesn’t mean to do it (which he never would, of course, he’d never even think about hurting that kid intentionally), would that really make a difference? Probably not, since the outcome would be the same- The child would be terrified, hurt and even more traumatized than he already is. He can’t do that. No, he really can’t. Tony can’t allow that to happen.

He stays in the shower for almost two hours. At some point, JARVIS turns up the heat, and even though Tony tries to protest, the AI won’t listen to him. Once the water is comfortably warm, Tony ends up sliding down the wall, coming to sit in his shower like- Someone really pathetic. He’s too tired and exhausted to come up with a better comparison. Focusing on his breathing exercise for a few more minutes, he lets his eyes slip shut and leans his head back against the tile wall, trying to ground himself in the present moment. It’s working. A bit. But the panic is still there. His hands are trembling again, and his heart is aching by now, after almost two hours of constantly pounding against his ribs. There’s a special kind of exhaustion now, too, but Tony knows all too well that he won’t be able to fall asleep any time soon. No, he will probably lie awake for a few hours, before realizing that it’s useless, and then he’ll get up and go back down-- Or maybe not, if the kid’s still there by then. Because somehow he’s reached a point where he won’t even consider being in the same room with Fenrir, which is just superb. But he can’t face the boy, no way in hell. Not after what went down between them just a few hours ago. Also, he’s pretty sure the kid isn’t too keen on seeing him, either, because who the fuck would want to see him after the show he pulled down there?

And all of a sudden the fear is back, with more force than every, pressing down on every inch of his body, making his gaps for breath once again as his head falls back against the tiles and his hands start to shake. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad, and now he’s here, and there’s nothing he can do! Not just for himself, but for the kid, too. He can’t help him, no matter what he promised, no matter how much he meant it at the time. He’s useless, because he can’t even help himself! But what else is he supposed to do, then? Kid needs help, obviously, he desperately needs it. If Tony can’t provide it, who can? For a fleeting moment he thinks about actually telling JARVIS to contact Capsicle, but he discards that thought pretty soon. The guy might be good at certain things, but somehow Tony doubts he’d be good at the kind of intervention that is needed. Also, he doesn’t think that Fenrir would appreciate being approached by another stranger, considering how skittish he’s even around Tony. That’s also the reason he won’t call Bruce in on this. No, strangers won’t be of much help. And calling anyone from the outside in brings another long, long list of risks. He won’t contact SHIELD, that’s for sure. But searching for a- A what, exactly? A therapist? Might be a good idea, but where the hell would he even begin to search? That’s a rather specific position that needs to be casted, and if it’s already difficult to find a regular therapist, finding the right one for Fenrir would be downright impossible- And again, that’s already assuming the kid would even tolerate a complete stranger into his vicinity. So, what is he supposed to do?

His vision is clouding again, and he knows his breathing is getting shorter and shorter by the minute, and yet there’s nothing he can do to stop it from happening. The nausea is back as well, and he presses his lips into a tight line and tries to fight back. He manages, but only just, and doesn’t really feel like a triumph, since he still feels absolutely miserable. Shuddering, he curls into himself and tries to suppress the shakes running up and down his spine. What is going to do? Should he- Should he call Rhodey after all? Maybe he can help the kid. Fenrir knows him, and that’s as good as it’s going to get at this point in time. And if it’s his only shot...

“JARVIS? Call Rhodey. Tell him- Tell him I need to talk. And that it’s urgent.”

_Of course, sir._

He breathes a sigh of relief after that, because it feels like a step in the right direction. Yeah, maybe Rhodey will be able to help. Won’t even matter if Tony gets chewed out for an hour or two. He knows that in the end, the guy will still come here as soon as he can, because he always does. Rhodey always pulls through, and in this case it’s not even about Tony, it’s about the kid. Doesn’t matter if the last time Rhodey saw him he was still wearing fur and walking on four legs instead of two, Tony knows his best friend will still care. Now maybe more than before. So yeah, calling Rhodey was the right--

_I am sorry to inform you that Colonel Rhodes can currently not be reached. Would you like for me to leave a message?_

“What... The fuck?”

_The most likely explanation would be that the Colonel is taking part in a secret--_

“Mission”, Tony mutters as he drags a hand over his wet face, “he’s on a fucking mission. That’s gotta be it. Don’t think he’d decline a call from me for another reason. Not after... Everything.”

Because Rhodey knows about Fenrir- Well, he knows about the giant wolf Tony was hiding until about two weeks ago, and he knows that if shit hits the fan, he’ll have to pick up the fucking phone, since he’s the only one involved in this mess. No, he’s gotta be on a mission right now. And there’s no way of telling when he’ll be back. So, Tony’s still on his own. And he’s still completely lost.

He starts crying at some point. Not sure why, exactly, but maybe it’s all getting a bit too much. Good thing he made it to the shower before it started, because he’s ugly-crying, and that’s not something anyone else needs to witness. No one needs to see his face crunch up, no one needs to hear his sobs, no one needs to know that he’s curling into himself and pressing his head against his knees to hide from reality. Tony isn’t much of a crier, never has been. But there have been times before when everything became to much, and he just- Cracked. Right now that seems to be the case again. So, he’s crying, and it’s not pretty, either. Actually, he’s sure it’s a pretty pathetic image, but he doesn’t plan on looking into a mirror in the foreseeable future (someone call the New York Times, this is definitely worth a headline), so it doesn’t really matter.

He knew it was bad. Of course, how could he not, at this point? But maybe he still underestimated his own condition and baggage, because this- This feels like a breaking point. He is _tired_ , so bone deep _tired_ , and he’s scared, terrified, even, and completely overwhelmed with everything that’s happening outside of this shower. Yeah, he’s a mess- No. He’s broken. Completely broken and probably beyond repair. And he was fine with that. He fucking _owned_ that fact, and he played his part, but now... Now, he’s no longer alone. There’s someone else, now, and it’s different from any relationship he has had before. He felt shitty for what he did to Rhodey, for what he did to Pepper, too, but even though it was undoubtedly awful, they were... They were adults, for lack of a better explanation. Fenrir isn’t. Fenrir is a child, and Tony- Tony can’t be allowed to hurt him the same way he has come to regularly hurt his friend and girlfriend. And if there’s no one else forbidding him from doing so, he’ll have to do that himself. Even if it’s the last thing he does.

Fucking hell. He needs to get out of here.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

“Hey, Brucie. Sorry to drop it like this on you, but I gotta leave for a couple of days. Nothing to worry about, just some business in Malibu that needs attending. Shouldn’t take much longer than a few days, a week at most, and I’ll let you know when I get back soon enough. In the meantime, please feel free to use the lab I set up for you. Sorry, I planned to tell you sooner, but they only finished it yesterday, so yeah. But it’s all done now, so enjoy! Just ask JARVIS, he’s gonna tell you how to get there, and he’ll give you a tour as well. Hope you’ll have something great to show me once I get back to New York, so you better start working! Also, I know you haven’t bothered using the credit cards I gave you when you first moved into the Tower. Stop being an idiot. You’re way too smart for that to work. I’ve got more money thanI know how to spend, so be a good friend and help me with that issue, you hear me? Enjoy yourself, go on a shopping spree, hell, donate to some charity for all I care! Whatever makes you feel better. That’s all I’m asking.

... Oh. And, uh, about the kid. Just- Stay away from the kid, okay? I know you’ve only got the best intentions, but I don’t really think he’s ready for that kind of contact. Just... Leave him alone for now. JARVIS will look after him, and he’ll let you know in case there’s anything he needs help with. It’s better this way, trust me. Kid’s already scared enough, and I don’t think your presence would be- Sorry. That case out wrong. But you get what I mean, right? Right. So, just leave him be, JARVIS will contact you if something urgent needs to be done. Otherwise... Just ignore him, I guess. Should be better for everyone involved.

Alright, that should be it. Ask JARVIS about anything I might have missed. I won’t be reachable for a while, but he should be able to help you with everything you could need help with. And... Have fun, I guess.”

“Good new for you today, Capsicle. Gonna leave the city for a couple of days. Rejoice! But yeah, you guys will have the Tower to yourselves for a little while. Feel free to do... Whatever it is you do in your free time. JARVIS will answer any questions you might have, and he’ll help you not get into an existential crisis because of a microwave. Just- ask him. He’ll be there. I won’t be able to take any calls, so just- Try not to get too lost. Or call for help. Whatever.

... And about the kid. He won’t be any trouble. Just leave him alone for now, JARVIS is taking care of everything. Don’t really think he’d appreciate you coming near him, he’s kinda skittish around strangers. So, just stay back for now. JARVIS will alert you to any emergency. Until then, just keep your feet still and do... Those super soldier things I really don’t wanna know too much about. Have fun, I guess. Left you more than enough money, feel free to spend it all. I’ll let you guys know when I’m gonna be back.

Oh, and tell Barton and Romanov, too. I can’t be bothered to record another two of these messages.”

“Alright, J, that should be it. Gonna be back in a couple of days, I just- Just need to clear my head for a bit. This isn’t _good_ , okay, this is really, really bad, and I know myself. It’s only gonna get worse from here on, so maybe if I stop now- Maybe there’s a chance to make it better. Just a little bit, but that’s worth something, right? I mean, I don’t think... I don’t think I’m all that much of a helping hand right. I think I’m actually making things worse, just by being here. So, uh, I’m gonna take a few steps back, and then I’ll come back, and we’ll see how it all goes. But right now, I’m only making it worse, and we can’t have that. Not with the kid. He needs a fighting chance, you know? And I don’t think I’m giving him that, with me panicking right in front of him and all that shit. Maybe some distance will do both of us good, huh? Maybe it’ll give us a chance to calm down and see things from a different perspective. Yeah... I think we could us that right about now.

You- Take care of the kid, alright? Watch out for him, make sure he gets enough to eat, tell him where to go if he asks for directions, all that kind of stuff. Try and get him to talk, if you can, that’d be a great help. But make sure to keep the others away, as long as you think the kid can’t handle it. Don’t think he will, so just- Make sure they don’t overstep any boundaries, alright? I trust you with this, okay, and I need you to promise me to do your absolute best with him. Until I get back, you’re the one responsible for him. And I’m counting on you. So don’t fuck this up, you hear me? Don’t- Don’t fuck this up.”

“Hey, kid. If you’re seeing this, I’m already gone. Got some stuff that needs to be taken care of, and I can’t postpone it. It’s gonna take no longer than a few days, though, so don’t worry! You don’t have to worry about anything. JARVIS will still be here, and he’ll help you with whatever you need. Just ask him if you’ve got a question, he’ll be there and guide you. That’s pretty much all you need to know for now. The others are still in the Tower, but just- They’ll keep their distance. Don’t have to worry about them, either. You just... Take your time. And I’ll be back in a little while, and then we’ll see. Just- Just take it easy, alright? And ask JARVIS if there’s anything you need.

... Okay. That’s it, I guess. See you in a while, kid. Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next installment starts on Monday, since I need a couple of days for some last minute editing. I hope to see you again, then, and thanks for sticking around so far!
> 
> Love,  
> Goldie


End file.
